


Maid for Royalty

by bunnybunz



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game), underswap
Genre: F/M, KINGKEY BOIS WE OUT, Master/Servant, Tags May Change, here comes trouble and make it sextuple, kinky???, ples eliminate me, thats not a sex joke btw, yes the title is a pun, ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°its not as bad as it sounds i swer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7570117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnybunz/pseuds/bunnybunz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're enjoying solitude and living in your tower before two skeletons on white horses come to whisk you away from your lonely and miserable life, prepared to shower you in the riches and the love a princess deserves-</p><p>Except you're no princess.</p><p>You're the princess's maid, only left behind after a prince finally saved her. Now, you're stuck with six aristocrat skeletons who are teaching you both how to serve them as a maid and how to act like a princess.</p><p>>M-Rated Sections marked by "***" for my readers!<</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Princess Must be Found

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Six Skeletons, One Maid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7124200) by [RaccoonSinQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaccoonSinQueen/pseuds/RaccoonSinQueen). 



> Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy the read! Go ahead and check out RacoonSinQueen's writing, which had inspired me to write this! She's an amazing author, and her ideas are fresh and original! http://archiveofourown.org/works/7124200/chapters/16181881  
> -  
> UF! Papyrus: Black or "Edge"  
> UF! Sans: Red  
> US! Papyrus: Orange  
> US! Sans: Blue or "Blueberry"  
> Papyrus is Papyrus  
> Sans is Sans

“Brother, why did you bring home this…”

“-STREET RAT?”

You sit in the parlor of a moderately large house bordering on mansion, staring at the hands in your lap abashedly.  
Of course the rude comment comparing you to vermin had irritated you, but you were in no place to bicker. At least, not now, anyways.

Six skeletons surrounded you, three sitting on the rather exotic lounge chair across from you, and two sitting to the left and right of you with a considerable amount of distance. The final and most familiar of them was standing tall between the two sofas, attempting to quell the confusion in vain.

“BROTHERS, PLEASE! WE MUST TREAT OUR GUEST WITH UTMOST RESPECT!”

“RESPECT?” One of the taller skeletons sneered, “I VALUE THE CARPET UNDER MY BOOTS MORE THAN I’LL EVER CARE FOR HER.” He emphasized his point by grinding the heels of his red boots into the carpet.

_Ouch._

The skeleton to the right of the tall, angry one elbowed him, hissing about being more polite and gentlemany.

“DON’T BE RUDE EDGE, SHE’S SITTING RIGHT THERE!”

“YOU THINK I CARE? IF SHE DOESN’T LIKE IT, SHE CAN LEAVE.” He scoffed, making the blue skeleton pout and cross his arms.

“i dunno about that, bro,” the one wearing a red jacket was practically drooling, “she’s pretty cute. i wouldn’t mind if she stuck around.”

You shivered, pressing yourself into the spongy cushion and shrinking away from the gawking skeleton. If this was a sneaky tactic to get you to leave, it was working much better than just the verbal bashing.  
As your discomfort grew with each passing moment, you wondered if it already too late to make a quick escape.

The one standing up (whom earlier introduced himself as Papyrus) placed his hands on his hips, a firm look of disapproval written across his face. “NONSENSE! SHE WILL NOT BE LEAVING JUST BECAUSE…" His determined stare faltered, pose falling slightly, "...SHE WASN’T EXACTLY WHAT WE WERE LOOKING FOR.”

You cringed on Papyrus's behalf, the doubt and apprehension in his voice almost tangible. This did not go unnoticed by the other members in the room, uneasiness peaking and teetering on the edge of hostility.

“papyrus,” A voice drawled out from next to you, “you said you’d bring home a princess.”

You wanted to disappear into the sofa, melt into the floorboards, or turn into dust and slip out from under the door.  
Shame burned a deep red into your cheeks like never before.  
  
How exactly had you gotten caught up in this mess again?  
  
It started off as a normal day. You had only been minding your own business in the castle, humming a merry tune as you watered the plants sitting by the windowsill. It was quieter than you were used to, but you found a certain kind of comfort in the silence, so you weren’t one to complain.

As the days rolled by, it became nearly a thing of routine.  
The absence of the usual duties and commands had allowed you to fall into a state of momentary ease, and for once in your life you found yourself feeling…  
  
...Free.  
  
Alas, this rare moment of contentment was ephemeral, as it always is.  
The spell of silence was broken by the mighty clomping of hooves descending upon the moist forest floor, followed by the aggressive crunching of boots through the underbrush. Two voices echoed throughout the opening, bickering in the lull of the forest being harsh and foreign- one voice louder than the other.

“I’M SURE THIS IS WHERE THE TOWER IS SUPPOSED TO BE! I HAVE DONE MY RESEARCH, SANS!”

“sure bro. where’s the castle though?”

Curious, you had poked your head out from the window wondering what the commotion was about.  
It wasn’t too often you had visitors! In fact, you didn't think you'd have any more since she left!  
  
Once you had caught sight of the two noisy skeletons and their white horses, (in all honesty, it was just one noisy skeleton, the other only seemed to be listening and nodding along) they had spotted you too. The taller of the two was wearing a red cape, which flapped wildly as a pointed you out excitedly to his comrade.

And though the peace was nice, company was even better. You flittered down the winding steps of the staircase to greet the weary travelers with cups of tea- a force of habit, you suppose? Only for the brew to be completely disregarded, much to your dismay.

“WOWIE! SHE EVEN OPENED THE DOOR FOR US!” He turned to his brother, a hint of disappointment in his voice, “I THOUGHT THERE WERE GOING TO BE MORE DRAGONS?”

His brother- Sans, was it? Shrugged, a grin stretched across his face. “well, that was easy.”

Slightly confused, you stood awkwardly with the platter of now-cooled tea as they continue to exchange statements that serve only to befuddle you further.

“GEE, HER CHOICE OF CLOTHING IS A BIT MORE… MODEST THAN I ASSUMED IT’D BE!”

“maybe she isn’t the showy type, paps.”

You look down at your tattered dress, feeling a bit offended. This article of clothing was something that you valued a lot, despite its obvious wear and tears; you had it ever since you started working, so it held lots of memories!  
Besides, something like that was a bit rude to say, especially to someone you just met.  
  
“Hey!" You exclaim, eyebrows furrowed, "that wasn’t very-”

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM HONORED TO MEET YOU!” The taller skeleton interrupted, taking a grandiose bow. “AND THIS IS MY BROTHER, SANS THE SKELETON!”  
He sweeps a large skeletal hand over to his brother, who simply picks up a hand to wave at you.  
  
“sup.”

Uhm-

“NOW, COME WITH US!" He thundered merrily, "WE SHALL BRING YOU BACK TO OUR ESTATE!”  
  
He situates himself back onto his horse (a very well kept horse, mind you- you mentally praised whoever groomed them) and presents his hand to you, and although you are still puzzled, you take it.  
You are pulled onto the great steed with a firm tug, and to your surprise once you are seated comfortably on the saddle, his brother is ready to go as well.  
  
Huh, that was odd. The small skeleton was a lot faster than Papyrus, even though Papyrus had started mounting his horse before him.   
Hah, it was almost as if he teleported.  
  
You shake off such nonsensical thoughts, instead choosing to focus on more pressing matters.

You realize that you’ve always tended to the pets of the princess, but you’ve never once sat on one- let alone _ride one!_ It was a grand experience, being perched so high up. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d feel like a princess being saved by princes on white horse-!

Wait.

With a loud “NYEH” and a squeeze of his legs (or femurs?), the horses started galloping away from your tower- and very quickly at that.

“Sir Papyrus!” You called, wrapping your arms around his ribs as the horse runs through the rough terrain, jostling you with unexpected force. How were princes and princesses in stories always depicted so elegantly on top of their blustering horses? "Sir Papyrus- I think you’ve been mistaken!”

“NYEH? WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

You lean closer, trying to be as comprehensible as possible, “I’m not a princess, Sir Papyrus!”

He turns his head to you slightly, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road in front of him, “I’M SORRY, MISS! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

You look to his brother for help, but are surprised to see Sans leading his brother, keeping a steady but rapid pace in front of Papyrus.

“I said-” You’re nearly screaming against the whistling wind now, your hair whipping about wildly, “-I’m not a-”

Papyrus turns further to look at you. “PLEASE WAIT UNTIL WE GET BACK TO THE MANOR, MISS! IT’S A BIT DIFFICULT TO LISTEN AND RIDE AT THE SAME TIME!”  
As if on cue, the horse jerks to the side and neighs, nearly tossing you and the skeleton off of it.

By the time Papyrus stops for a break to ask you what you were saying, your little group had traveled for what seemed like hours- and you had been growing more and more uneasy with each passing second since your realization.

It took you a few tries to explain the misunderstanding, but mostly because the taller skeleton seemed to be in denial.

You were no princess, you had no riches- you weren’t even part of royalty! It was true that the princess had been imprisoned in the tower with you, but-

“oh, geez kid.” The shorter skeleton chuckled, fortunately not seeming too bothered by the situation.  
  
At least, not as much as his brother...

“THE PRINCESS WAS SAVED BY ANOTHER PRINCE ON A WHITE HORSE? THAT WASN’T US?” Papyrus cried, holding his hands to his face in dismay.

“AND YOU WERE HER _MAID?!”_

You dip your head, apologies once again spilling from your lips. “I’m so sorry Sir Papyrus, I tried to tell you but- but-!”  
You lower your head even further at his crying. (“NYOHOHO! WE WERE TOO LATE! I KNEW THAT SPENDING THOSE EXTRA HOURS IN COOKING CLASS WASN’T A GOOD IDEA! WHAT WILL OUR BROTHERS SAY?” To which Sans replied “heh. i guess we _maid_ a pretty big mistake.” You weren’t sure if it was your imagination, but the taller skeleton seemed to sob harder at that.)

“I’m sincerely sorry for this, sirs.” You address Sans as well, though he looks more amused than upset. “I’ll take my leave now, if that’s what you wish.”

Even though you honestly had nowhere to go…  
You figure that perhaps you could walk to the nearest village (miles away) and look for a job (as a scullery maid, or something of the such) to survive off of until you happen upon better circumstances. (Which you were sure you wouldn't have the luck of finding.)

As you turn to leave, bony fingers wrap around your wrist.

“MISS MAID!” You internally cringe at the nickname.  
Papyrus wipes away his tears, (How did he cry without eyeballs or tear ducts?) releasing your arm and puffing out his chest valiantly despite his insistent sniffles.

“YOU MAY NOT BE THE PRINCESS WE WERE SEARCHING FOR, BUT WE ARE PROPER GENTLEMEN,” he gestures to himself and to Sans, “AND WE WILL TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR REMOVING YOU FROM YOUR HOME.”

Surprised, you turn to Sans, who seemed to be the one in charge despite his lack of speech.

He shrugged, his smile never fading. “wanna live with us, pal?”

Well… Not like you had any way of going back to the tower now, right? And honestly, you weren't really looking forward to scrubbing floors again. Perhaps this would be a good change?

But now, you found yourself wishing you had just walked back.  
Despite the long and tiring journey through rain and winds, you were sure anything would be more tolerable than… This.

“HM, HE’S RIGHT, PAPPY! YOU SAID YOU’D BRING HOME A PRINCESS!” The blue one whom had defended you earlier spoke up, “WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT?”

“you sure she isn’t a princess?” The red one asked, “’cause I wouldn’t mind un-prince(dr)essing her.”

You scowl and wrap your arms around your body, attempting to shield yourself from the creepy red skeleton. Your glare didn't seem to deter his wandering eyes, and you considered scolding him though it would probably not end up in your favor. With a huff of resignation, you remind yourself to get him back for it later.

The skeleton on your right wearing a strange-looking, wooly orange jacket seemed to notice your pains and sighs, sending the other skeleton a look of disdain. You don’t get an apology, (not like you were really expecting one) but fortunately, his eyes stop roaming up and down your form and he turns away, whistling inconspicuously.  
You give your savior a lopsided smile of gratitude, both pleased and stunned when he responded with one of his own small grin.

‘Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad here?’ You think hopefully.

“IF SHE’S A PRINCESS, THEN I TAKE BACK WHAT I SAID AT THE LAST IMPERIAL MEETING!” The one dressed in black snapped, “ROYAL INTERMARRIGE REALLY _IS_ BECOMING AN ISSUE.”

Nevermind.

“EDGE!” Three skeleton shout in disapproval, to which he only grumbles and slumps into his seat.

“well, no matter what the situation is, we can’t just kick her out and leave her to the dogs.” The orange fellow speaks up.  
The irate skeleton looks like he’s about to say something again, but one look at Sans stops him in mid breath. (Though, when you look over at him, his expression hasn’t changed from his laid-back self.)  
“the most we can do for her is provide food and shelter. she doesn’t seem like she intentionally fooled us, does it?”

At his question, six pairs of eyes land on you at the same time, and you shrink back, eyes wide.

The blue skeleton eyes you with curiosity and acceptance, black regards you with a scornful gaze, red winks at you, (you gag) orange watches you analytically, while Papyrus and Sans just look at you like they always have.

The group stays silent in agreement to the previous question, but a certain weight rests upon the room, as if there’s one final catch.

“SO YOU’RE JUST GOING TO LET THIS LITTLE ROACH LEECH OFF OF US?” Black hisses, fists clenched in displeasure.  
  
"ACTUALLY, ROACHES CAN'T LEECH OFF OF PEOPLE!" Blue says matter-of-factly, clearly missing the point.

“of course not.” Orange continues, placing an arm on the armrest leisurely. “she’ll have to work to stay here.”

Red’s face flushed, no doubt full of filthy thoughts. “heh, what kind of work, bro?”

“housework.” Orange says curtly, leaving no room for the mind to wander.

“-AND-!” Papyrus interrupts, jabbing a finger in the air, “-WE SHALL EDUCATE HER ON HOW TO ACT LIKE A-”

“-A PRINCESS!” Blue finishes for him, starry-eyed and nearly leaping out of his seat with excitement.

“I’M NOT TEACHING HER ANYTHING-”

“-aw come’on boss,” Red interrupts Black, leaning toward him slightly. “we can have some fun with her.”

Red’s definition of fun definitely differed from Black’s, but the sadistic smile that overtook his face was enough proof that he had been convinced.  
  
_Oh boy._

Orange shrugs next to you, having spoke his mind already.

Sans winks at you.

“looks like you’re stuck with us for now, kid.”


	2. A Maid Must Dust

You stand on the very tip of your feet, your legs quivering with the stress you were placing on your toes.  
Lifting your arms, you found that you still couldn’t _quite_ reach the uppermost shelf with your cleaning equipment.    
  
…Maybe if you climbed onto the shelves-  
  
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING MISS MAID LADY?”  
  
Startled by the sudden question, you yelp and nearly leap out of your skin. The oak chair underneath you wobbles as you jolt in surprise, and you instinctively latch onto the shelf in front of you to balance yourself.  
  
_SQUEAAAK_  
  
Much to your horror, the shelf acting as your saving grace creaks and groans under the additional burden, quaking in protest to your weight in addition to the heavy volumes it had been proudly holding up.  
  
You allow your fingers to slip from the shelf, alarmed, but the damage has already been done.  
  
Blue watches in speechless astonishment as you land hard on your rear-end, shaking yourself out of your daze in time to (somehow) successfully catch all the books that started making their descent to the floor.  
Unfortunately, it had slipped from your mind that the shelve would soon be detaching itself from the rest of the shelf.  
  
The heavy slab of richly colored mahogany met the floor with a loud _'CRACK,'_  making both you and the skeleton jump at the noise.  
  
…  
  
A moment of silence filled with your heavy panting and Blue’s flabbergasted silence passed before you looked at each other, both of you shaken from the unexpected chain of events.  
  
Oh, great. Just a day into your new job and you’ve already managed to blunder something up.  
  
You felt guilt welling in your heart as you took in Blue’s wide-eyed, bewildered expression.  
He was the only one who had thought to come and visit you today, and with good intentions too! Perhaps he was even here to start a potential conversation- and you had repaid him by scaring the living daylights out of him.  
  
Well, there goes your chance of befriending him anytime soon.  
  
“Oh no, Blue, are you alright?” You put down the books and rush over to him, your arms aching with overexertion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to knock things over like that!”  
  
Blue blinked and pulled himself back into reality, meeting your gaze with his usual undaunted cheer (much to your relief) .  
  
“I’M NOT HURT, MISS MAID LADY! BUT YOU MIGHT WANT TO BE MORE CAREFUL!” He wagged his pointer finger at you, “MY BROTHERS MAY NOT TAKE TO YOUR MISTAKES SO LIGHTLY!”  
  
You offer a nervous smile, brushing off your tattered dress.  
  
“Alright, I’ll be sure to be less clumsy from now on, but…”  
  
You trailed off and Blue leaned in keenly, waiting for you to finish.  
  
Grinning, you picked up your hand and gently poked his forehead.  
  
“You don’t have to call me ‘Miss Maid Lady,’ okay?”  
  
Blue’s ivory cheeks dusted with a sky blue hue, and he peered at you shyly with the aura of an innocent child.  
  
“A-ALRIGHT! THEN MAY I CALL YOU-”  
  
“YOU WILL ONLY BE ADDRESSING HER AS ‘THE MAID.’” A harsh voice interjected.  
  
Both you and Blue’s heads turn to the source of the sound, the smile cleared off your face. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.  
  
Black is standing pompously with his hands crossed across his chest, his towering form filling the doorway with ease.  
You assume he’s come to see what all the noise was about, and you prepare yourself for the harsh scolding that was sure to entail from one of the toughest skeletons in the house.  
  
“AND YOU!” His voice sharpens when he turns to you, “YOU WILL ADDRESS US, ROYALTY, WITH RESPECT!”  
  
You wonder for a second what you have done to deserve such resentment from him, but bite back a retort as he assesses the entire situation with growing incredulity.  
  
“WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED HERE?”  
  
You hum nervously and clasp your hands behind you, rocking uncomfortably on the balls of your feet.  
“Well, you see-”  
  
“I DISTRACTED HER, EDGE!” Blue leaps up, cutting you off with his own excuses.  
  
“I TUGGED ON HER DRESS WHILE SHE WAS CLEANING, AND SHE LOST HER BALANCE!”  
  
Oh dear.  
  
You feel your heart swell with appreciation at the excitable blue skeleton moving most the blame off of you, and it takes almost all of your willpower to prevent a smile from taking over your face. Besides, who knows what will happen if Black catches you staring at Blue with such gratitude?  
  
You remind yourself to thank the sweetheart later as you take in the events unfolding before you.  
  
Black listened to Blue’s account of the story with skepticism, eyes trailing to you again (you gulp) and narrowing in suspicion.  
Blue picks up on this and hastily waves his arms around, drawing attention to himself for the second time in a row.  
  
“PLEASE DON’T BE MAD AT ME! I PROMISE I WON’T DISTRACT THE MAID ANYMORE!”  
  
Black regards you both warily, still disbelieving of the tale.  
  
“heya, whats with all the ruckus?”  
  
Black moves aside from the entrance to reveal Orange, whose eyes widen slightly at the messy scene.  
  
“woah, what a mess.”  
  
You draw back a bit timidly, a bit more worried about the kinder skeleton’s reaction to your clumsiness than Black's.  
But before you can say anything to defend yourself, Blue jumps into action.  
  
“BIG BRO!” Blue launches himself at the new skeleton in the room, throwing his arms gleefully around his bony waist.  
You almost felt abandoned at how quickly Blue had left you for Orange, but the spark of a sly glimmer in those starry eyes of his told you there was a reason for it.  
  
Just as you predicted, Blue began to ramble, quickly explaining the situation with absolutely no signs of fibbing (and as much as you appreciated his help, you took note to take anything he said with a grain of salt).  
  
“BIG BRO, I’M SORRY! I KNOCKED OVER MISS-MAID-LADY-”  
You could’ve sworn he smirked at you as you cringed at the nickname  
“-AND THEN THE BOOKS FELL DOWN AND THE SHELF CAME DOWN TOO! I WAS SCARED I HURT HER BUT WE’RE BOTH OKAY AND DIDN’T MEAN TO, I PROMISE!”  
  
Orange became visibly less anxious once he heard that Blue wasn’t hurt, and rubbed his brother on the head endearingly.  
  
“don’t worry about it, blueberry. just make sure to play safe next time, alright?” He turns to you coolly, nodding towards the mess on the floor. “you didn’t hurt yourshelf, did you?  
  
Blue groans and lets go of Orange, protesting against his “atrocious puns” while Black takes on a look of absolute revulsion, Orange chuckling at his own joke.  
  
You mask your disbelief of the ordeal with a light chuckle and shake your head.  
  
“No, I’m fine. I’m not too sure about the shelf though, it may need repairing.”  
  
Black glowered at you aggressively, “OF COURSE IT WILL, YOU INCOMPETENT FOOL! NO THANKS TO _YOU!”_  
  
You frown, “I didn’t mean to knock the shelf down, Black. I apologize for that. If it’s any assurance, I’ll clean it up.”  
  
“DO NOT SPEAK TO ME SO CASUALLY, MAID! IT IS ‘YOUR HIGHNESS’ TO YOU!” He bit out, not at all changing his demeanor with the presence of Orange and Blue.  
  
You sigh and act before you think, giving the cantankerous skeleton a mock curtsy and lifting your skirts around you.  
“Yes, your highness Black.” You say with a reverent tone.  
  
You hear Blue giggling from behind “his highness Black”, and you have to refrain from laughing yourself. Black looks just about ready to attack you, and when he takes a few steps forward, the smile itching at the corners of your lips is wiped clean off.  
  
Uh-oh.  
  
“WHY YOU LITTLE-“  
  
_‘CLANK’_  
  
“NYUH?”  
  
Everyone watches as Black picks up his iron-toed boot, inspecting the item underfoot.  
  
You pale, just now remembering that you had dropped your cleaning equipment earlier when you lost your balance.  
  
You hear Orange snicker quietly in the background as Black stares at the offending object with a look of utter bewilderment and irritation, before dragging his gaze up to you.  
  
He thrust an accusing finger at his feet.  
  
“YOU WERE DUSTING THE BOOKSHELVES WITH A _DUSTPAN?_ ”  
  
You stare at him blankly.  
  
“Isn’t that what dustpans are for?”  
  
Orange hides his laughter by placing a hand on his face, turning away with shaking shoulders. Blue looks at him, then back at you, grinning with a shrug.  
  
Black is the one under most duress at the moment, (from what exactly, you weren’t too sure) his hands clenching and unclenching into fists- so irate he was unable to speak.  
  
With a noise of utter exasperation, he whips around, his scarlet cape billowing dramatically behind him as he storms out of the room growling all kinds of obscenities.  
  
By the time he’s gone, Orange has calmed down and Blue is back at your side in a flash, peering down at the dustpan in wonder.  
  
“WOWZA! YOU SURE MADE BLACK ANGRY!”  
  
You’re still staring at the dustpan, baffled about why _that_ had sent him angrily out of the room. You were only doing your job, shouldn’t _he_ of all people be happy about that?  
  
…Maybe it was because he had stepped on it?  
  
Black seemed to be the type to get mad at even the smallest things, so it would make sense, right?  
  
Orange detects your confusion and exhales, the corner of his mouth still quirked upwards.  
  
“ (y/n), do you not understand what the issue is?”  
  
You’re quiet for a few more moments, analyzing the situation from all different angles in your head.  
  
Was Black upset that the dustpan had dirtied his boots?  
Perhaps he was worried about the dust that was scattered on the floor when you dropped it?  
Were the dustpan and brush not to his taste?  
  
_What could it be?_  
  
The taller of the skeleton brothers raises his brow(bones?) at your silence, donning a lazy smile.  
  
“the dustpan is usually used on the floor, (y/n). nothing else.”  
  
_Oh lord._  
  
Your mouth drops open and a hand flies to your face, your face flushing in embarrassment.  
  
_B-But, you always did it this way- and no one ever said anything!_  
  
“But it’s a dustpan!” You stutter out. “A dustpan is for _dust!_ ” As you argue your point, your face heats up even more at Orange shaking his head in good nature.  
  
“that’s a _duster_ you’re thinking of. dusters are used for shelves and other more delicate surfaces.”  
  
You gape in astonishment, your mind reeling as you recall all the years you’ve spent cleaning bookshelves, cabinets, tables and dressers with a dustpan instead of a duster.  
  
“Isn’t…” Your voice wavers, and you’re unsure if you want to continue. Orange and Blue look at you expectantly, so you swallow your pride and spit it out, “…Isn’t a duster used for brushing the dust off of silverware?”  
  
You watch, horrified, as Orange bursts out in laughter, leaning against the doorframe for support.  
You could’ve sworn you saw Blue’s eye twitch, but you’re too preoccupied with being flustered to think too much about it.  
  
“The duster isn’t for the silverware?!” You ask, your voice squeaking in humiliation.  
  
You couldn’t believe this! You couldn’t believe _yourself!_ Just how long have you been practicing these methods for?!  
  
Why had no one corrected you until now?!  
  
“SILLY MISS (Y/N)!” Blue giggles, “YOU HAVE A LOT TO LEARN HERE! BUT THAT’S OKAY! WE’LL TEACH YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW!”  
  
~  
  
Standing just a little ways ahead in the hallway, Black seethes, having heard the entire conversation.  
  
He couldn’t believe it- that new girl was absolutely ridiculous. He groans and slams his skull into a nearby wall.  
  
_So this was why the princess left the maid behind._


	3. A Princess Must be Kind

In truth, it didn’t smell _all that_ terrible. It was actually quite presentable; the sight of it wasn’t repugnant (despite the strange, pinkish color mixed into the tomato sauce) and it very faintly gave off an odd odor.  
  
Nothing too horrible, right?  
  
That’s why you couldn’t understand why no one showed up to lunch that day, since none of them ever missed a single meal that you prepared.  
Now, you weren’t claiming that you were an expert cook or anything of the sort, (you had your fair share of slightly over burnt food from time to time) but you’ve been complimented on your skills for making small, sweet delicacies time and time again.  
  
Perhaps your desserts were the reasons why the skeleton brothers stayed so long for dinner these past few days, but you couldn’t be too sure.  
Either that, or it was because you didn’t top your dishes off with generous cupfuls of actual tomato juice, like the precious little-big chef next to you.  
  
“Oh my, Sir Papyrus…” You trailed off, unable to meet his eyes.  
You prodded at the spontaneously liquid-y and gelatinous substance on the beautifully etched china plate in front of you.  
  
“This spaghetti is…”  
  
You heard him scoot his chair closer to you, leaning forward so excessively you were afraid he would tip the chair. His stare was like a laser boring holes into the side of your skull.  
  
“…Like nothing I’ve ever seen before!”  
  
Whew. That wasn’t a lie, exactly.  
  
Upon hearing your (very carefully put together) praise, Papyrus’s uneasy smile relaxed into a more confident grin, and he sat up with a little more dignity than before.  
  
“WHY OF COURSE, MISS (Y/N)! THE GREAT PAPYRUS MAKES ONLY THE MOST UNIQUE OF CUISINES!”  
  
As he was proclaiming his cooking skills, you dug further into the spaghetti-like substance to uncover an eggshell.  
  
An entire, mostly intact, unpeeled boiled egg.  
  
It’s shell was just barely scraped off- and you realized wantonly that the pieces that had managed to chip off were probably buried in the tangles of half-cooked dough and goopy ketchup.  
  
Papyrus was currently sitting half an arm’s length away from you, his bright red cape tucked neatly between his body and the back of the cushioned seat.  
His arms and legs were kept out of your personal space, which you appreciated, but the intensity of his gaze burrowing into your head was enough to make you sweat bullets.  
  
He wanted you to eat this.  
  
Well, to be more precise, he had wanted _everyone_ to eat this.  
  
The kind-hearted skeleton had spent nearly the entire morning and afternoon in the kitchen by all by himself, chopping onions, holding various meats over a fire, and occasionally revving a chainsaw.  
  
Even with the strange ways that Papyrus conducted himself in the kitchen, you knew he had put his heart and soul into the dish.  
The sweetheart had even took it upon himself to tell his brothers that he’d be preparing a _special_ meal for them that afternoon, and had prepared enough for seven people, including himself.  
  
Unfortunately, his brothers obviously did not share the same affinity for his cooking as Papyrus did.  
And unfortunately for you, his brothers also did not share the same knowledge of his cooking with you.  
  
From the past few days you had spent at the manor, you had heard your share of jokes about how certain skeletons cooked- or, to be more accurate- did _not_ cook, because they _should not_ cook. Ever.  
  
While you were picking up the heavy books that had collapsed from the bookshelf a few days ago, Orange had ushered Blue out of the room to assist you.  
Of course, adorable little Blue had initially disagreed, standing firm in his decision to help as well, though both you and Orange both knew he would only serve to be an extra distracter.  
  
However, as soon as Orange mentioned how you’d absolutely _love_ seeing one of his puzzles (a specific puzzle that you’d later learn took _hours_ to assemble) Blue was out the door with giddy squeals of excitement and “MWEHEHEH’s.”  
  
In truth, Orange talked a lot more than he had actually helped, but you didn’t mind all that much.  
Besides, some company helped the time spent on chores go by a lot more quickly.  
  
As you went through the thick volumes page by page to make sure no harm had come to them, (direct orders from “his highness Black” a few minutes after Blue hurried out) Orange recounted various tales of embarrassment his brothers had written themselves into.  
  
Halfway through his second story (which involved Red battling the tangle of weeds in the courtyard) it dawned upon you that his reasons for sharing these little snippets of his life wasn’t only to entertain you, but to remind you that even the brothers you were working for made silly mistakes- even if those mistakes didn’t include knocking down shelves and priceless books loaded with knowledge.  
  
It was thoughtful of him, but you soon discovered a pattern in his stories that pushed you to tease him rather than outright thanking him.  
  
Ah, of course.  
The tall, orange-clad skeleton would never expose any of his own embarrassing stories without a little nudging and edging.  
To be fair, you didn’t know anyone who would spill all their darkest, most humiliating stories to a person they’ve only known for 2 days- but that didn’t stop the small twitch of your lips turning upward, a taunt dancing at the tip of your tongue.  
  
“Five little anecdotes and still nothing about you, Sir Orange?”  
  
The skeleton peered at you, surprised.  
  
“whatever could you mean, miss (y/n)?”  
  
He bit back something you mistook as a grin, and you took that as a sign to continue.  
  
“Oh, nothing much. I was just wondering why I never heard any stories about _your_ personal experiences, is all.”  
  
At that, Orange sank deeper into the deep red armchair he was reclining in, a slightly reminiscent sigh slipping past his teeth.  
  
“something about me, bud?”  
  
You hummed, signaling him to go on while you paged through another book patiently. It would only make sense if you knew a little bit about the masters you were serving, right? You wouldn’t say that you were being nosy, just…  Attending to part of your job.  
  
You hear him cough in uncertainty, and something in the atmosphere shifts in the slightest.  
  
As the mood drops, your hands slow their work. Before you can hastily correct your upfront behavior, Orange has already started speaking again.  
  
“i uh-” The chair creaks under his shifting weight. “i’ve got plenty of stories, kid. too many.”  
  
Uh-oh.  
  
The way he said those words rendered you without any yourself.  
  
A mixture of both regret and a certain kind of forlornness was etched between every syllable he uttered, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’ve taken a single glimpse too many into his deeper affairs.  
  
Doubt washed over you, and you vaguely wonder if you had stepped too close into his personal life for his liking.  
  
The lack of a response from you pulled a blanket of stifling silence over the room, Orange seeming distant yet ever-so-present at the same time.  
  
“Sir Orange,” You say, recalling Black’s order to address the skeletons with more respect, “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s alright if you-”  
  
“there was one time i locked myself in a bathroom all day because of blueberry’s cooking.”  
  
You look at him, confused.  
All the signs of emotional distress had disappeared as quickly as it presented itself, and it was almost as if nothing had happened.  
You’d be left wondering if you had imagined it all, if not for the fact that the leather armchair still had indentations from the pressure at which his fingers had gripped them.  
  
Orange returns your blatantly puzzled look with a lazy, lopsided smile.  
  
“don’t believe me, huh?”  
  
You allow a small chuckle to slip out, still wary of what had just happened. You weren’t quite sure why Orange was allowing your prodding to go by unaddressed, but you definitely weren’t going to question it.  
You needn’t get into any more trouble than you already had today, so you stowed your piqued curiosity for another time and went along with him.  
  
“N-No!” You stutter, flipping through the final pages of the last book, “I just didn’t think Sir Blue knew how to cook!”  
  
The tall skeleton chuckled, the deep sound emanating from his chest to shake his shoulders. “well, you aren’t exactly wrong. he _doesn’t_ know how to cook.”  
  
You pick up two books at a time to stack in the corner, an amused expression plastered on your face.  
  
“It certainly couldn’t have been _that_ bad, Sir Orange?”  
  
At that, Orange laughed, shaking his head slightly from side to side. “yea, i guess it could’ve been worse than a taco-soufflé. at least that comes in a smaller portion than a plate of lasagna or spaghetti.”  
  
Your gag reflex kicks up upon hearing Orange mention the taco-soufflé, and he watches you, amused at your reaction.  
  
“A taco-soufflé? And you ate it?”  
  
Orange scratches the back of his head with long metacarpals, shrugging nonchalantly. “of course. blueberry made it for me, and i couldn’t let it go to waste, could i?”  
  
Before you could spare a moment to coo at how adorable the relationship between the two brothers was, your stomach turned at the idea of putting such a savory and simultaneously sweet “treat” into your mouth and you shivered.  
  
Orange snickered quietly at your paled countenance, allowing his eyelids to slip closed. (Though you weren’t sure how a skeleton could close their eyes, you were just glad Orange couldn’t see grimacing anymore.)  
  
“hey, don’t worry too much about it kid, i’m still alive and kicking. im not too sure i could say that had it been edge’s cooking, or pap’s, though.”  
  
You straightened your back with a satisfying “pop;” all the books were in the corner next to the shelf, and your job here was done.  
  
“Sir Papyrus and His Highness Black cook?”  
  
Orange’s browbone raised with the corners of teeth. “let’s hope not soon.”  


* * *

 

And that was all the warning you got.  
  
The platter of half-uncooked pasta sat before you in current time, the silverware that sat in your clammy hands dug tightly into your skin.  
  
Papyrus didn’t seem to mind that no one else had shown up. In fact, he had seemed even more giddy than usual when you showed up by yourself, confused by the absence of people in the dining room as he ushered you to your seat.  
  
You presumed that something like this happened occasionally; Blue, Papyrus or Black cooking a meal, then asking (or in Black’s case, probably demanding) that people eat it.  
The other brothers were familiar enough with scenarios like this to know not to show up at all, lest they be attacked with either tears or a string of angry cusses.  
  
You, however, were still fairly new to all of these “family traditions,” and deciding that it would be extremely rude to not attend a lunch Papyrus personally invited you to, you had gone.  
Now, you were going to learn firsthand just how bad moldy cheese and watery ketchup would go together.  
  
Maybe it wasn’t too late to slip out of this situation. There was still a sliver of hope left for your churning stomach.  
  
“Sir Papyrus, I’m not…”  
  
Your words caught in your throat when you threw a glance to your side, spotting Papyrus eyeing you with childlike excitement and glee. If he had a tail, you were sure it’d be wagging a mile a minute.  
  
A long exhale escaped from your mouth, leaving the potentially hurtful confession lodged in your throat. How long had it been since Papyrus had found anyone to try out his cooking (which he claimed he’s been working a while to improve) with enthusiasm to match his own?  
The poor thing wasn’t even slightly phased by the emptiness of the dining room, and you could only assume it was because it was something that happened regularly.  
  
You twirl up a forkful of the spaghetti, wondering if it would be rude to pinch your nose.  
  
You owed him this much, at least.  
He had taken you out of your isolation in the tower (as happy as you were over there, with freedom to do whatever you wished) and given you a job (as a maid. again.) in exchange for generous amounts of food and warm shelter.  
  
You tried not to inhale too much as the forkful of red-stained pasta neared your face. With a showy slurp, you popped the fork into your mouth and sucked up the rest of the noodles, just barely disguising the shiver of utter resentment you had for your tastebuds as a moan of appreciation.  
  
“Wow-” You coughed out, still trying not to breathe. “-This is-” You gagged, your eyes watering slightly from the sting of the concentration of tomatoes., “-Really something else, Sir Papyrus!”  
  
The way Papyrus’s eyes light up with absolute joy almost convinced you that your sacrifice was worth it, had it not been for the gurgling of your stomach.  
  
“WOWIE, DO YOU REALLY THINK SO, HUMAN?” Papyrus fluttered his nonexistent eyelashes at you shyly, blushing slightly, which you would’ve found hilarious had you not been trying to push down the vile taste in your mouth. “YOUR LOVE FOR MY COOKING IS UNMISTAKABLE! IT’S SO DELICIOUS THAT YOU ARE TEARING UP!”  
  
He wasn’t wrong about tearing up, at least.  
  
You clench your hands into fists and will the blob of half-chewed up spaghetti down your throat, all the while making approving, savory noises to mask the reflexive choking sounds.  
  
“woah. the maid’s eating your cooking, papyrus.”  
  
Papyrus speaks to Red with a flourish of gusto, extremely proud of his accomplishment in making a (just barely) palatable dish. “OF COURSE, BROTHER! I’VE BEEN ATTENDING COOKING CLASSES FOR A REASON!”  
You, on the other hand, gasp for breath, grateful that the forkful of Grade-A nightmares was over with.  
  
Red’s crimson pupil’s latch onto your panting form with a perverse smile, making his way to the table and taking a seat across from you and Papyrus.  
  
Papyrus reacts to his arrival with only happiness, unlike you (who grimaces at him), and generously offers Red a sample of his cooking.  
  
“RED, COULD YOU BE HERE TO TRY MY FAMED PASTA?” He clicks the metal prongs together in an unintentionally threatening manner.  
  
The said skeleton broke out in nervous sweat, shaking his head a bit too quickly to come across as casual.  
  
“n-nah bro, i’m just here to hear what the maid thinks of your amazing food.”  
  
Papyrus laughed whimsically, “NYEHEHEH! WHY OF COURSE, I AM CURIOUS AS WELL!”  
  
With that, both skeletons turn to your hunched form, one beaming with anticipation while the other glows with sadistic intent.   
  
You want to take another mouthful of spaghetti just to spit it out at Red, but you decide it’s not worth it. Besides, it’d be you cleaning up the mess in the end.  
“Well, it’s flavor was a little… Inexplicable.”  
  
Red grins mischievously at you as Papyrus visibly deflates, a look of disappointment washing over his features and dampening his spirit.  
Your heart jolts at this, and you leap to correct yourself with great haste.  
  
“…Inexplicably good! It was like nothing I’ve ever tasted before!”  
  
Red jumps at your sudden outburst and Papyrus sniffles quietly, peering at you with the hurt on his face rapidly ebbing away.  
  
“R-REALLY?”  
  
You nod and give him two thumbs up, licking your lips for an added effect. You suppress the urge to retch when your tongue actually picks up some sauce at the corner of your lips.  
  
Papyrus clasps his gloved hands in front of him, as if praising a greater power for gifting him someone willing to eat his food.  
  
“SO YOU AGREE THAT MY CUISINE IS, IN FACT, A PART OF AN INGENIOUS CULINARY CRAFT?”  
  
You manage to give him a shaky smile and attempt offer him words of encouragement without being too untruthful.  
  
“Mhm! Just a little bit more work and everyone is bound to love it!”  
  
Papyrus lights up and before you can register his movements, you feel your arms being pressed to your sides, your front crushed to his armor-clad ribs.  
  
“OH, HUMAN! YOU’RE KINDER THAN ANY PRINCESS SANS AND I COULD’VE EVER FOUND!”  
  
Although you grateful for the charming sentiment, all the air in your lungs has been squeezed out from your quivering form and you’re struggling to breathe.  
  
“heh, even better than a princess?” You hear a certain skeleton mutter.  
  
In a moment of desperation, your eyes dart to Red, silently asking for assistance. However, your plead for help goes unnoticed. Red’s eyes are focused on something else, sourly ignoring you and Papyrus with a twinge of annoyance in playing into his countenance.  
  
Hah! What a jerk.  
Was he was upset because you hadn’t given Papyrus the verbal beating he was evidently looking for? Well, he wasn’t getting what he wanted anytime soon.  
  
You scoffed and picked a hand up, patting the back of the taller skeleton’s head lightly.  
It was adorable that he was so reliant on your praise, but his atrocious cooking couldn’t go unacknowledged- especially if he expected you to eat it again soon.  
  
Accomplishing your duties as a maid would prove to be difficult if you had to run to the bathroom every ten minutes, afterall.  
  
“What if I told you I knew how to make your spaghetti even more delicious than it already is?” You ask.  
  
Papyrus withdraws, his face a questionable faint orange.  
  
“EVEN MORE DELICIOUS?” He looks over at his plate of cold pasta, placing a finger to his chin, humming thoughtfully. “IMPOSSIBLE! MY SPAGHETTI IS THE EPITOME OF GASTRONOMIC GENIUS! UNLESS…”  
  
Papyrus attains a sneaky look. “…YOU HAVE A SECRET TO MAKING GOOD FOOD EVEN BETTER?”  
  
You chuckle and work to clear the table of food as Papyrus is distracted, pouring the nearly untouched noodles into one large bowl. You’re hardly startled when a piece of a broken spatula squelches out from the henious concoction.  
  
“I suppose I do, Sir Papyrus. Would you like me to show you some time?”  
  
Papyrus jumps up from his seat with a renewed fervor, “nyeheheh”-ing while proclaiming how he had to tell his brother Sans about such good news. In a bolt of inexhaustible energy, he’s out of the door and stomping upstairs.  
  
A smile washes over your features, and you turn to Red- only to find him missing.  
  
You look around, eyes scanning the perimeter of the dining room.  
  
Huh. When did he leave?  
  
It had occurred to you that he had been awfully reticent since you told Papyrus that his cooking wasn’t _horrible_ , but for such a noisy guy, Red had left remarkably quietly.  
  
You shrug and walk into the kitchen, a bowl of pasta and a dirtied plate in one hand and six clean plates clicking together in another.  
As you stepped into the kitchen, your heart dropped into your still-recovering stomach.  
  
After hopelessly taking in the wrecked kitchen, your eyes fall to the bowl of spaghetti in your hand, and you sigh.  
Along with teaching him how to cook, you’d have to teach Papyrus how to keep his ingredients _in the bowl_ , too.


	4. A Maid Must Cook, A Princess Must Dance

With a small flick of the duster, you sighed in relief. If you had done everything correctly, that was the last spot you needed to clean today!  
A resigned sigh slipped from between your lips, and you slouched wearily into the wall beside the old oak cabinet.  
  
Today had been a long day, and your aching muscles and creaking bones were proof of how tediously you had completed each chore- even the absurd “request” (As if Black could ever simply “request” anything without a hint of a threat) to polish every picture frame in the manor.  
  
All two-hundred-and-seventy-six of them.  
  
You felt a spike of anger bubble up in your gut just remembering how rude the demanding skeleton had been.  
As always, he had shown up completely unwarranted for, sending a sharpened, glowing bone pressing at the skin of your nape to force you to drop everything you were doing and listen to him.  


* * *

  
  
“NOW, I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE PREOCCUPIED WITH BEING COMPLETELY USELESS, PER USUAL!”  
  
Your fingers twitched around the wooden duster handle at his unmannerly greeting.  
  
“-HOWEVER! I HAVE A TASK THAT NEEDS TO BE ATTENDED TO, WHETHER OR NOT IT IS TO BE ATTENDED TO BY ME, OR SOMEONE LESS CAPABLE- SUCH AS YOURSELF!”  
  
Right.  
  
As Black spirals into another egotistical monologue about his own greatness, you can feel your body slowly reclining into a defeated slouch, the only thing keeping you up being the strange magical bone. (Which you had expended enough energy into freaking out over the first time he summoned it, which was probably why he kept bringing the same little magic trick up.)  
You can barely refrain from snorting at his insane amount of pride, but seeing as that has considerably darker consequences than simply speaking; you offer him words of pacification instead.  
  
You raise a finger, “-I don’t believe that you-”  
  
“-SILENCE!”  
  
The sharper edge of the bone digs into the soft flesh of your skin, and although it causes pinpricks of pain to shoot through your nerves, you had undergone this treatment several times too many to know when Black intended to hurt you.  
Now was not one of those times, so you simply lower your proclamational finger with unwavering patience.  
  
Humoring the otherwise most temperamental skeleton, you listen to his declaration of self-appreciation for a few more brief minutes before zoning out and resting against something behind you, not failing to notice with amusement how the bone meant to keep you in place stayed hovering in the same place.  
  
“-SO I ORDER YOU TO MAKE EVERY SINGLE PICTURE FRAME TO GLEAM WITH UTMOST CLEANLINESS.”  
  
Woah, what?  
  
You suddenly regret allowing your thoughts to stray so far from reality. If you had caught onto what chore Black had been planning to dump onto you earlier, perhaps you would’ve been able to worm your way out of it (though the probability of that was quite slim.)  
  
“Black-”  
  
A menacing glare cut you off and you made haste to correct yourself.  
  
“-Erm, Your Highness Black,” His scorn lessened, though not considerably (you doubted His Highness Black was ever fully contented) and you continued, “you must be a bit more specific. There are hundreds of frames in the manor- which floor are you requesting I tend to?”  
  
The skeleton’s features gave way to annoyance at your inattentiveness, but you were much more alarmed when you saw a spark of twisted amusement in his eyes.  
  
“AH, WITH SOMEONE AS ALOOF AS YOURSELF, I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT I WOULD HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF.” He peered down at you mockingly from his proud posture. “NO MATTER. I WILL GLADLY BASK IN YOUR MORTIFICATION UPON HEARING THE ORDER… AGAIN.”  
  
His Highness Black paused dramatically, a commendable attempt to raising the tension in the air.  
  
…  
  
When he took a beat too long with the theatrical silence, you opened your mouth to say something along the lines of “get on with it,” but as always, he stopped you short.  
  
“I REQUIRE YOU POLISH EVERY LAST DETAIL ON ALL OF THE FRAMES.”  
  
“Your Highness, please be more specific-”  
  
“IN THE ENTIRE MANOR.”  
  
“Wait, there’s no way I can-!”  
  
“WITH NO BREAKS.”  
  
“Excuse me, but you’re being quite unfair-”  
  
“-WITH A SINGLE RAG!”  
  
You parted your lips to retort, but held your tongue when you caught sight of His Highness Black staring almost gleefully at you, as if waiting for you to speak so he can add to your task.  
Against your ever-nagging pride, you bite back any more protests.  
  
“…As you wish.”  
  
Seeming pleased with your cooperation, he flicked his wrist and the jagged, hovering bone disappeared. As he moved to turn around and walk away, your shoulders dropped and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.  
  
You knew that His Highness Black didn’t intend to hurt you (at least not in this particular moment of time) but you still couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of how strangely powerful he was. To summon such weapons at will required a magic even you, a regular human, knew was strenuous; but to create solid bone with a snap of his fingers was clearly a sign of preeminence- if nothing at all-  
  
“FULL SENTENCE.”  
  
Abruptly, the looming skeleton was back, bent slightly at the waist to be at eye-level with you. Startled out of your skin, you leaped several feet into the air and barely managed to suppress the scream that itched at your throat.  
  
You scrambled to collect your wits as he stared at you scornfully, a foreboding smirk turning his sharp canines upwards.  
  
Even with your best efforts, all you could manage was a stuttered “H-Huh?”  
  
“MY TITLE. OR HAVE YOU ALREADY FORGOTTEN HOW TO BE RESPECTFUL OF YOUR MASTERS?”  
  
Your heartbeat settled to it’s normal pace again, irritation replacing fear in your mind.  
  
“’Masters?’ I’m sorry to inform you, but you are the only one in the manor who requires me to address you as such.”  
  
His eyelights dimmed dangerously. “DO NOT MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF.”  
  
You eyed the magic gathering in his hand warily and complied. “As you wish, Your Highness.”  
  
“YOUR HIGHNESS WHO?”  
  
“Your Highness Black.”  
  
Much to your relief, he returned to his normal stance. “NOW, WAS THAT SO DIFFICULT?”  
  
“…Please allow me some time alone. I have many chores to attend to, Your Highness Black.”  
  
The arrogant skeleton scoffed at your avoidance to his question. “UNCHARACTERISTIC DILIGENCE. I CANNOT SAY I DISLIKE SUCH OBEDIENCE.”  
  
He turned around and made his way to the door, and this time you made sure to watch him go.  
  
“I WILL BE SURE TO CHECK YOUR WORK. ONE LITTLE SPECK, AND YOU WILL BE PUNISHED AS I DEEM FIT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”  
  
“Yes, Your Highness Black.”  
  
He tossed one more look over his shoulder before the door closed noisily with a ‘BANG,’ rattling the frame enough to be worrisome.  
  
How unfortunate. Looks like you weren’t going to catch a break anytime soon.  
 

* * *

  
You slowly made your way back to your location of your final task- the kitchen.  
  
Dinner should have been easy enough, given that your masters weren’t picky; your meals weren’t particularly dastardly compared to a few unnamed skeletons, and that was good enough for them.  
  
The thought of any of them cooking sent shivers through you as you recalled the mess Papyrus left in the kitchen last time he made lunch. Those stains made your fingers creak in pain with the force at which you had scrubbed them.  
  
Well, at least you knew now to never let him into the kitchen alone again. That was the only surefire way to ensure you wouldn’t have to pry meatballs free from the ceiling in the next lifetime.  
  
Or, that’s what you thought.  
  
“WHY HELLO THERE, HUMAN!”  
  
You choked back a strangled cry.  
  
“YOU SEE, I DECIDED TO TAKE YOU UP ON YOUR KIND OFFER TO TUTOR ME IN YOUR WONDEROUS WAYS OF COOKING! I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF PREHEATING THE OVEN FOR THE SPAGHETTI!”  
  
The kitchen was once again annihilated. There were abstract paintings lining the walls and countertops in spaghetti sauce, pots and pans cluttered along the floor and teetering along the edges of the backed-up sink, burnt marinara sauce threatening to spill all over the pristine tiled floor.  
  
Before you could register any more of the chaos swirling about the once-pristine kitchen, you leapt for the wobbling saucepan full of boiling water (??) and crashed onto the floor beside Papyrus’ legs, catching the utensil before the water could scald the oblivious, apron-clad skeleton.  
  
“WOWIE! I DIDN’T KNOW COOKING REQUIRED GYMNASTICS! IS THIS PERHAPS ONE OF A CHEF’S SECRETS TO TOP-NOTCH CULINARY CRAFT?”  
  
After a bleak moment of laying on the floor breathlessly, you set the boiled water onto the stove again, this time making sure it was safely out of reach from Papyrus’ flailing arms. You blandly think to yourself that preheating an oven isn't even necessary for making spaghetti.  
  
“maybe that’s why they call it a flying-pan.”  
  
You hands connect to your face with a resounding slap, your tired arms complaining about that simple motion alone.  
  
Please not another one.  
  
“I KNEW THAT YOU SHARED THE SAME GOD-AWFUL HUMOR AS MY BROTHER, BUT PUNS ARE A NEW LOW. EVEN FOR YOU, RED!”  
  
You allowed a slow and grievous exhale to slip past your lips as your hands slid off your face.  
  
“Sir Red, don’t you have other matters to attend to?”  
  
The said skeleton gave a deep chuckle at your attempt to ward him off, instead settling on a stool that gave him a front row seat to the premiere of utter disaster. “nope.”  
  
“WONDERFUL!” Sir Papyrus beamed at the shorter skeleton happily, “YOU’LL GET TO WITNESS COOKING GENUIS AT IT’S FINEST! YOU SEE, MISS (Y/N) HERE IS GOING TO REVEAL SOME OF HER UTMOST SECRETS TO ME!” He finished the sentence with a slightly sneaky look, checking the door to make sure no one had overheard.  
  
Red’s smile widened creepily, glancing at you not-too-subtly. “utmost secrets?”  
  
“Cooking tips.”  
  
“COOKING _SECRETS!”_ Papyrus  corrected, placing his bony hands on his hipbones.  
  
Red leans back with a leisurely smile though clearly losing interest in prying further. “it’s looking pretty good so far.”  
  
You really wanted to slap that shit-eating grin off his face.  
  
“NYEHEHEH! OF COURSE IT IS, WITH MISS (Y/N) AND I WORKING TOGETHER! WE WILL BECOME THE ULTIMATE COOKING TEAM!”  
  
Despite the kitchen being a complete mess and Red obviously looking to make you miserable, seeing one of your kindest Masters so happy sated your distress, if even by a bit.  
  
“Alright Sir Chef Papyrus, are you ready to cook?”  
  
Papyrus visibly lit up at the title, grabbing a spatula off the countertop excitedly.  (You didn’t have the heart to tell him spatulas were unnecessary for making pasta) “WHY OF COURSE! I’M READY WHENEVER YOU ARE!”  
  
You sent him a small smile and cracked your knuckles loudly, as if getting ready for a fight (And just as you suspected, Papyrus became exponentially giddy at your actions) “Then let’s make some dinner.”  
  
And thus the evening continued, you giving Papyrus certain tasks and occasionally correcting him as you cleaned up whatever you could.  
To be honest, although your muscles ached from the work from today and your mind throbbed with the constant multitasking, you enjoyed the company Papyrus provided you. Making meals was usually a thing done on your lonesome, and though you finished much more quickly without an additional fumbling skeleton, it was much more eventful this way.  
  
“Sir Chef Papyrus, what are you doing?” You place the lid over the boiling pasta.  
  
Papyrus looked up from his work, clutching a porcelain bowl to his bones carefully.  
  
“I’M MAKING THE SAUCE, MISS CHEF (Y/N)!”  
  
You laughed and reached over to pluck to whisk from between his fingers, setting it in the sink with a soft ‘clang.’ “You don’t use a whisk to smash tomatoes, Sir Papyrus.”  
  
Papyrus observed you unblinkingly as you picked up the barely-squashed fruits and cutting them into small pieces, placing them into the bowl once more.  
  
You hand him a wooden spoon, gesturing to the bowl. “Dicing the tomatoes will make it easier to get the juice out, why don’t you try it out?”  
  
Papyrus held the spoon carefully, as if holding it the wrong way would destroy all the progress made thus far. Slowly, he brought the spoon down upon the tomatoes- far too slow to do anything but shift them a bit to the side. Nonetheless, he is extremely pleased with himself.  
  
“I SEE! ALL THESE CLANDESTINE CULINARY TRICKS MAKE EVERYTHING SO MUCH EASIER! WOWIE, I CAN’T BELIEVE I’VE BEEN SO BLIND THIS ENTIRE TIME!”  
  
You want to sigh and laugh at the same time, but you simply settle for correcting his grip on the spoon instead, eyeing him furtively. “Well, Sir Chef Papyrus, this technique is known among only the most talented of chefs-”  
Papyrus’ eyes widened and he nodded, eagerly leaning in to hear the secret.  
 “-We accumulate just the right amount of speed and force to get a nice, chunky texture. Like this, see?”  
  
You take his bony hand in your own, angling the bowl to mash the tomatoes more easily.  
  
Turning to Papyrus, you’re surprised to find him staring more intently at your hand on his than on the bowl.  
  
“Sir Chef Papyrus?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
Papyrus jolts, clearing his throat showingly. “WHY OF COURSE! WHAT AN AMAZING TECHNIQUE THAT I WAS WITHOUT A DOUBT PAYING ATTENTION TO!” You hear Red scoff in the background, but before you can wonder why, Papyrus begins to smash the spoon against the tomatoes vivaciously, splashing the front of his apron and your dress with red stains.  
  
He pauses, peering down first at his attire and then you.  “WOWIE, THIS TECHNIQUE SURE IS MESSY, MISS CHEF (Y/N)!”  
  
“This is the meager price we must pay to make masterpieces, Sir Chef Papyrus.” At least the tomatoes were finally pulverized.  
  
“MISS (Y/N)!”  Something slammed into you from behind, knocking the wind out of you and nearly toppling you over. “THAT’S NOT FAIR, YOU SAID YOU’D PLAY WITH ME WHEN YOU FINISHED CHORES!”  
  
You twist around with much effort to catch an eyeful of a blue bandanna, and manage to remove the overemotional Blue from his hold on your hips.  
“I’m sorry Sir Blue, but you seem to be misunderstood, I _am_ very busy at the moment.”  
  
Blue looks at you with betrayal scrawled across his face and pooling in his starry eyes. “THEN WHY ARE YOU HAVING FUN WITH PAPYRUS AND RED?”  
  
Red snorts in the back, reminding you of his presence. He had shockingly avoided being troublesome in the duration of your cooking lesson. “yeah kid, we were havin’ lotsa fun without you.”  
  
Blue gets even more riled up at this, his lower line of teeth beginning to quiver like a pair of human lips. You shoot a glare at Red, who only winks at you in return. Soothingly, you run a hand across Blue’s skull, offering words of comfort. “Sir Blue, I assure you, we are just preparing dinner.”  
  
Papyrus intervenes with his chest puffed out proudly “NOT JUST DINNER! MISS CHEF (Y/N) IS TEACHING ME CULINARY SECRETS!”  
  
Blue sniffles quietly, glancing at Papyrus. “…ARE CULINARY SECRETS FUN?”  
  
Please don’t say anything-  
  
“WHY OF COURSE! MISS CHEF (Y/N) AND I ARE HAVING THE BEST OF TIMES!” Papyrus taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN US?”  
Your peaking stress stopped short when you saw Blue’s face brighten again, nodding excitedly at Papyrus’ considerate offer. “BOY, WOULD I!”  
  
Blue manages to clamber up onto the kitchen island, swinging his legs over the edge with a slight pout. “BUT… I WANTED TO TEACH MISS MAID HOW TO DANCE! THAT’S WHY I WAS LOOKING FOR HER IN HERE!”  
  
Dancing? When had you ever agreed to that?  
  
Papyrus claps his hands together, his face alight. “AH, YES! THE PRINCESS LESSONS!”  
  
Ah yes. The princess lessons.  
  
You laugh nervously, trying to usher the taller skeleton back to his bowl before things could escalate further. “Masters, can we not speak about this at another time?”  
  
Papyrus places a hand delicately to the puffy –chest part of the apron, shaking his head. “NONSENSE! A FINE LADY SUCH AS YOURSELF MUST NOT BE DEPRIVED OF SUCH LUXURIOUS PRACTICES!”  
  
Blue bounced gleefully on the countertop, his hands curled into fists. “YEAH! MISS MAID WOULD BE GREAT AT DANCING, I KNOW IT!”  
  
Clearing his throat, Papyrus pointed his sauce-coated spoon at you. “THE LESSON WILL BEGIN NOW!”  
  
You flinch as he unintentionally sends a few flecks of sauce at you. “Masters, I’m afraid that cooking while dancing is quite impossible! How will I ever do that?”  
  
Blue deflates at your words, muttering a small “Awh…” as Papyrus’ face scrunches in thought.  
  
“NYEHEH!”  
  
Blue, Red and you watch as Papyrus picks up a whole tomato and glides over to the bowl, adding a little spin as he-  
  
-With fast reflexes, you immediately leap and grab the tomato before he dunks the entire thing into the half-finished sauce, but he either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice, because he finishes off his waltz with jazz hands.  
  
Blue begins to applaud him, and Red looks mildly impressed- though you’re unsure of whether it’s directed at Papyrus’ little dance or at your quick save.  
  
“JUST LIKE THAT!” Papyrus peeks over his shoulder to watch you expectantly, a cheerful smile stretched across his face.  
  
One look at his and Blue’s faces render you unable to argue. They both seemed so extremely overjoyed to finally have someone to share their time with, and you’d feel like an utter monster for turning them down.  
Plus, Red looked like he was waiting for you to reduce these two sweet skeletons into a disappointed puddle of sadness. You weren’t going to let him have that satisfaction.  
  
Already resigned to your fate, you decide to have fun with this. (Well, as much fun as you can have with a pounding head and weary muscles.)  
You spin over to the cabinet for spices and grab several, pirouetting back to the bowl and adding a pinch of rosemary into the mixture.  
  
Blue and Papyrus “ooh” and “aah” accordingly, and you find a lopsided smile worming it’s way onto your face as you send Red a victorious look.  
  
Your little celebration is short-lived however, when Blue gestures to the ingredients on the table with a wiggle of his hips.  
Hoping to appease him, you grab a container and make your way to the simmering pot of noodles with a flair to every step, raising the lid to sprinkle a bit of salt before spinning to grab a ladle and mixing the pasta accordingly.  
  
Blue’s cheeks are dusted with a light cyan color and he sends you a shaky thumbs up, nodding encouragingly at you.  
  
You give him a thumbs up as well, a silly grin plastered on your cheeks. Wow, were you actually having fun?  
  
Suddenly, an long arm loops around your waist, taking your hand and tangoing you to a cutting board with cheese and a grater resting atop it.  
  
You feel a laugh bubbling at your lips when you see Papyrus has the wooden spoon between his teeth, the scoop tinted suitably red like a rose. He releases you to grate the mozzarella, and you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief to see he knows how to do at least that.  
  
The sound of rattling behind you captures your attention, and you chuckle upon seeing Blue shaking the pepper and cilantro bottles like maracas.  
Tiptoeing your way back to the condiments, you sweep up a shaker of oregano and-  
  
The top falls off and the entirety of the contents fall out of the bottle and into the sauce.  
  
Papyrus shimmies over to you and pauses when he sees what happened. “WOWIE! IS A WHOLE BOTTLE OF SPICES ALSO A CHEF’S SECRET?”  
  
Blue places his skeletal hands on his cheeks in wonder. “MISS MAID, YOU ADDED EVEN MORE OREGANO TO THE SAUCE THAN I ADD SUGAR TO PAPPY’S TACOS!”  
  
Their words do very little to comfort you.  
  
You’re wanton with both confusion and surprise. You were sure all the tops were secure when you took them out before, so why…?  
  
Your ears pick up on a snicker coming from Red, and your cheeks begin to burn. He couldn’t have been responsible, right? He hadn’t even moved from his seat, and you doubted he had enough foresight to loosen all the caps beforehand…  
  
“COME ON MISS (Y/N), LET’S DANCE!” Blue tugs at your hand and pulls you back towards the now-soft pasta, making an effort to twirl you (though he was too short) and you spun regardless.  
However much he was smiling though, you were making sure to pay close attention to everything in the kitchen, especially the chuckling skeleton behind you.  
  
Picking up a drainer, you make an effort to emphasize your graceful hand movements as you lift up the top of the pot-  
  
Just as you expected, the handle came clean off, as if it had been tampered with. You whip around to look for Red, only to find him missing from his usual seat on the stool.  
Aha!  
You caught him red-handed!  
Head turning about, you scan the kitchen counter for any sign of him, but he isn’t there either.  
Looking back at his seat, you do a double take. He was back in the chair, positioned in a way that made it seem like he didn’t move at all.  
  
It was almost like he _teleported-_  
  
“MISS MAID, YOU’RE A LOT STRONGER THAN YOU LOOK, HUH?” Blue points at the handle of the lid,  beaming at you.  
  
“THAT’S IDEAL FOR A PRINCESS!” Papyrus says from his spot, “A PRINCESS WITH MUSCLES MEANS A PRINCESS THAT CAN DEFEND HERSELF… AND ME!”  
  
You’re too busy to respond to their comments. The pasta would be overdone if you didn’t remove it from the water soon.  
You grab a towel and lift the lid, double checking to make sure the handles were secure before you drained the noodles in the sink.  
  
Hurriedly, you make your way to the bowl of oregano with a dash of sauce, and scoop out as many spoonfuls of the herb as you can.  
Red clicks his tongue at you “how wasteful, (y/n). the prices of spices went up recently, yaknow.”  
  
You grit your teeth and ignore him, moving to a cabinet to find plates. Luckily, the handle didn’t come off of this one, but the plates had definitely changed their placement.  
The china plates had shifted from the first shelf to the uppermost one, making it impossible to reach without standing on the stool Red was currently sitting on.  
You didn’t understand how Red could even reach that high, because you _certainly couldn’t.  
  
_ You supposed you could blame telekinesis right after you accepted your inner crazy.  
  
You look towards either of the friendlier skeletons to assist you, but with no luck. Papyrus was busy experimenting with different herbs, having finished preparing the cheese, and Blue was checking on the meatballs you had steamed earlier.  
  
Aggravated, you walk over to Red, who’s lounging with his arms folded behind his head and closed eyes- but still somehow seems like he’s been anticipating your approach.  
  
“Sir Red.”  
  
He pops an eyelid open and greets you with a lazy smile, though the way his eyes turn up betray his intentions.  
  
“heya sweetcheeks. what brings you to this part of the kitchen?”  
  
You swallow your attitude, knowing that it’d get you into more trouble than this is worth. “I would like to borrow your chair for a moment, Sir Red.”  
  
Red picks his body up from it’s slouch against the wall, though he doesn’t move to get off the chair.  
  
“you want my old wooden chair? you’re really puttin’ me out on a limb here.” He leans forward into your space, and you move back with as little disdain on your face as possible. “shouldn’t ya know how to ask more politely?”  
  
You purse your lips to prevent unwarranted words from leaking out, and Red seems to take a liking to this, sweat beading on his head. Sick bastard.  
  
“May I _please_ borrow your old. Wooden. Chair?” You bite out.  
  
Red’s uncanny smirk widened, and just as the gears in your mind began to turn, he grabbed your arm before you pulled away.  
Yanking you closer, you soon found his face too close for comfort.  
  
“do i get anythin’ in exchange, sweet'ums?”  
  
You tried to wrestle your arm from his grip futilely, silently fuming. Just as you were about to call for Papyrus or Blue’s help (Though you doubted they’d do anything but scold him, which would only serve to make things worse for you) Orange walked into the room, half a bottle of honey in his lax hand.  
  
“blueberry, you in here?”  
  
“PAPPY! WE’RE COOKING!” Blue darted over to his taller brother, who had paled considerably after hearing the news. “MISS MAID IS HELPING US MAKE DINNER!”  
As if suddenly noticing your absence, Blue scanned the kitchen. “HUH, WHERE DID SHE GO?”  
  
One step ahead of Blue, Orange’s half-lidded eyes landed on both you and Red before he raised an eyebrow.  
Red begrudgingly released his hold on you, leaving you still towering over him as he chuckled nervously.  
  
Blue, having finally caught sight of you, smiled- until he saw your compromising position with Red.  
  
“…WHY IS RED UNDERNEATH YOU LIKE THAT?”  
  
You pull away from the offending skeleton, rubbing the arm that he had grasped so tightly.  
  
“what can i say? she was jumpin’ my bones.”  
  
Blue stares at him unblinkingly.  
  
You scowl at him, but he’s too busy eyeing a bigger threat (Orange- both literally and figuratively) to be bothered with you.  
You catch Orange’s lax expression pull into a tighter one, the corners of his teeth sliding downwards the _slightest_ bit.  
  
You silently remember to never give Orange a reason to be mad at you.  
  
Red seems to understand the unspoken words and collapses back into his chair, hands placed haphazardly in his lap.  
  
Well, you weren’t getting the chair anytime soon. Luckily, though, you had someone else just as useful.  
  
“Sir Orange?” You make your way back to the buzzing part of the kitchen. “Would you mind getting those plates for me?”  
Blue latches onto you immediately after your return, as if that would keep you from leaving again. “HOW’D THOSE GET ALL THE WAY UP THERE?”  
  
You give an indifferent shrug, feeling Red’s eyes bore into your back intensely. “I guess they must’ve found the first shelf uncomfortable…”  
Blue cocked his head at you. “HUH?”  
“…Because they dished it.”  
  
You hear Papyrus fall onto his knees noisily behind you, taking a bottle of cinnamon (you hoped to stars he didn’t put anything into the sauce) with him on the way down.  
“NYOHOHO! MY FAVORITE MAID HAS SUCCUMBED TO THE UNBEARABLE WORLD OF HORRIBLE JOKES!”  
  
You wanted to point out that you were their _only_ maid, but you decided against it.  
  
Blue groaned and stomped his feet, his protests going unnoticed under the sounds of Red’s somewhat malicious cackling and Orange’s light chuckle.  
  
The plates were in your hands soon enough, and you had let Blue and Papyrus do the honors of scooping pasta and sauce onto the plates, needless to say they were ecstatic to see that food they made hadn’t ended up burnt. (And although both Orange and Red tried to hide it, you could tell they were somewhat relieved as well.)  
  
As you placed an equal amount of meatballs onto each plate, Blue bounded up to Orange, tugging on his orange coat.  
“HEYA PAPPY, WHY’D YOU COME LOOKING FOR ME ANYWAYS?”  
  
Orange, who had been slouched idly against the edge of the island, shook his head. “it’s nothing big. edge was just complaining about how one of your puzzles was blocking the way to the stairs.” He took a sip from his jar of honey, and you blanched.  
You had seen a stash of honey like that in the fridge, and you liked your tea sweet. Hopefully, he had his own stash.  
  
“WOWZA, BLACK COULDN’T SOLVE MY PUZZLE?” Blue’s eyes dazzled with something akin to both joy and impishness. “AND HE ALWAYS CALLS MY PUZZLES ‘INSIGNIFICANT JAPES JUST AS TRIVIAL AS ME!’”  
  
Both you and Orange expressed displeasure at the same time, he by clicking his tongue and you by frowning.  
You were going to have a little talk with Black later.  
  
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Just seconds after thinking that, Black strides into the kitchen, hands haughtily on his hips.  
  
“PEASANT. I HAVE INSPECTED YOUR WORK ON THE PICTURE FRAMES, AND JUST AS EXPECTED, I FOUND A MYRIAD OF INTOLERABLE MISTAKES! I’M AFRAID YOU’LL HAVE TO START AGAIN FROM THE BEGINNING.”  
  
You can barely stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him, but you somehow manage anyways. “Your Highness Black (You swear you can hear Red jolt at the name) I’m afraid that I’m a bit busy right now.”  
  
He crosses his arms and takes in the scene in front of him. “SAME EXCUSE AS ALWAYS, I SEE. WHILE YOU WERE SNOOZING AWAY IN THE KITCHEN WITH YOUR MASTERS, I WAS TEDIOUSLY ENSURING THAT EVERY PICTURE WAS HUNG WITH NO ANGLES!”  
  
You choose to skip over his Freudian slip, though Red and Orange clearly caught on, color adorning their cheekbones. “I don’t recall you mentioning the positioning of the frames, Your Highness Black.”  
  
“I TIRE OF YOUR PITIFUL EXCUSES, HUMAN! IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO DAWDLE IN THE KITCHEN WITHOUT MY COMPANY, THEN YOU SURELY WILL HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO FIX YOUR ERRS.”  
  
“WE WEREN’T DAWDLING, EDGE!” Papyrus popped up next to you, holding up a plate of nearly-complete spaghetti proudly. “MISS CHEF (Y/N) WAS TEACHING US HER GASTRONOMIC SECRETS!”  
  
You sigh, thankful for Papyrus’ support.  
  
“COOKING…?” Black narrowed his eyes at the dish. “…WITHOUT ME?”  
  
Or not. It was the thought that counts, you guess.  
   
You rush to calm his temper “Your Highness Black, this was only the most simple of instruction- surely someone as _gifted_ as you would already know such things. If we were to concoct more advanced meals, I’d be sure to invite you.”  
  
Black hums, long fingers stroking his chin. “HM. VERY WELL! TO NOTICE MY TALENT FOR COOKING, YOU MUST BE MORE CAPABLE OF THOUGHT THAN I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT.”  
  
Okay.  
  
“Thank you, Your Highness Black.”  
  
He seemed to have forgotten about the entire picture frame ordeal, which you decided was worth sacrificing a bit of your pride for.  
  
A few minutes into allowing Blue and Papyrus to tamper a bit more with each plate, you notice Black’s unusual silence and follow his intent gaze to the dishes of food.  
  
Did the big, bad, “His Highness Black” want to help too?  
  
Tenuously so he wouldn’t clam up, you hand him the small bowl of the grated cheese.  
It had been grated by Papyrus, so it was somewhat uneven and chunky, but it would melt anyways, so that didn’t really matter.  
Black stared at the bowl, then you with incredulity in his eyes, and you can practically hear his defensiveness spike.  
  
“Go on.” You give him a smile- a bit awkward, but still better than nothing. “I’m sure every plate would do better with your skill, Your Highness?”  
  
He stutters for a brief moment before he snatches the bowl out of your hand, face deepened with a burgundy hue.  
  
“O- OF COURSE! WHY, IT. IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH TO ASK FOR ASSISTANCE.”  
  
He ended his train-wreck of a sentence with a offhanded pat on your head, his bones clacking against your skull almost painfully- but you accepted his sign of disguised gratitude.  
  
You watched as he scurried away to join Papyrus and Blue, who both wholeheartedly accepted him into the group.  
Ah. That was cute.  
  
“you did good.”  
  
You hummed in question, not taking your eyes off of the trio lest they make any mistakes. “Whatever could you mean, Sir Orange?”  
  
The smile was practically written in Orange’s words. “well for one, the food looks edible.”  
  
You laugh at that, shaking your head. “Let’s just hope it tastes as good as it looks, Sir.”  
  
“if it’s anything like it smells, then we’ll be fine.”  
  
“YOU HAVE TO DANCE, EDGE!” Blue twirled in his spot, then dropped a sprig of parsley on his plate. “LIKE THAT!”  
  
Black frowned, raising an eyebrow in question. “WHY WOULD I DO SUCH A FOOLISH THING?”  
  
Papyrus did a strange jig with his hands and threw some pepper onto the plates. “IT’S ONE OF THOSE HEAD CHEF SECRETS!”  
  
You shake your head in disbelief, a smile etching itself into your face. You didn’t recall telling them that one.  
Still, it was worth seeing Black attempt to dance, nearly dropping the shredded cheese because of his blundering feet. Regardless of his impromptu ballet, both Papyrus and Blue reacted positively- which Black brushed off. “SUCH A SIMPLE RITUAL IS A HEAD CHEF’S SECRET? I CALL BLASPHEMY!”  
  
You hear Red’s voice behind you and Orange. “and he wouldn’t be wrong, right miss chef?”  
  


* * *

  
After retrieving Sans for dinner, you had all settled at the large dining table, Papyrus and Blue buzzing with enthusiasm while Black subtly tittered with an odd mixture of pride and anxiety- though Sans, Red, and Orange looked a little hesitant to dig in.

  
“This meal was prepared by Sir Papyrus, Sir Blue, and His Majesty Black.” You announce, watching bemused at their various expressions.  
Usually, you would pardon yourself and eat elsewhere, since Black had once kicked up a fuss about how inappropriate it had been for a maid to dine with her masters- though he allowed it to slide today.  
  
After a moment of just sitting there, Black snapped “WELL, WHAT ARE YOU ALL WAITING FOR? TOO INTIMIDATED BY A TRUE CHEF’S MEAL TO ENLIGHTEN YOUR TASTEBUDS?”  
  
For whatever reason, Sans, Red and Orange look to you for guidance, and you respond by raising a forkful of steaming spaghetti to your own lips, giving the flavor time to seep into your tongue.  
  
Huh, what do you know? It actually didn’t taste too bad. Maybe the intolerable temperature of it had masked some of the stranger things they had added into the pasta.  
  
Taking your cue, the skeleton brothers dug in, the sound of silverware clinking against fine china filling the dining hall.  
  
Everything seemed to be going well until Sans requested a second plate (to which Blue and Papyrus celebrated, and Black silently rejoiced along.) and you had granted him his wish, piling more spaghetti onto his plate when-  
  
_‘CLING!’_  
  
The room grew still as they inspected the object which had made such a sharp noise.  
  
“is that…”  
  
Alas, an evening spent with skeletons who couldn’t tell cooking utensils from cleaning utensils, and _you_ had been the one to slip up.  
  
Red guffawed with laughter as Papyrus desperately tried to explain to Sans (who didn’t seem to mind at all, actually) that “THE WAYS OF COOKING WIZARDRY REQUIRED SOME SACRIFICES,” which only served to make it sound like you had bleed out three virgins and a goat to complete the meal.  
  
In reality, you could only stare blankly and wonder _how_ you managed to miss it.  
  
Sitting proudly on top of Sans’ delicately engraved plate was the ketchup-stained metal top of an oregano bottle that you had forgotten to fish out in the midst of countless other shenanigans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya you guys! i was wondering if there was a specific skele you wanted to see next? i just need somewhere to start my next chapter (we may eventually have slight OC/Reader ;-) )


	5. A Maid Must Tend to Her Master's Restlessness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slowly building up to maximum fluff??? lenny face

It was late into the night, and most of your masters were already in their rooms either preparing for sleep or already sleeping.  
You had just finished all of your chores for the day, and were just heading to your room before a certain skeleton stopped you in your tracks.  
  
“You want me to… What?”  
  
The pinpricks in Red’s eyes darted to and fro, actively avoiding your gaze. “i uh. i have issues sleepin’ if i don’t do it.”  
  
Even for someone as strange as Red, you were taken aback by his odd request. Sure, perhaps you’d expect something of the sort from Blue or Papyrus, but Red?  
  
For a brief second, you hesitate, watching his face for any hints of his typical mischief. As far as looks go, Red seems just as nervous as you- if not slightly embarrassed.  
  
Huh.  
  
His cheeks are tinted a deep rose color and as always, beads of sweat are dotting his head. His hands are stuck into the deepest recesses of his pockets, but you can still somehow make out the slight fumbling motions of his fingers against the fabric.  
  
Alright, so he didn’t seem to have anything _funny_ planned. Still. It was an unusual favor to ask of you.  
  
Red’s tense shoulders shrunk even further into himself than before, if that was even possible. “yaknow what kid, nevamind. pretend i didn’t say anythin’.”  
  
“Hey, wait-” You snatched onto the sleeve of his jacket before he could walk away but quickly retracted your hand when you recalled Black’s long-winded lecture on respect. “Sir Red, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just confused.”  
  
Red’s teeth made a low sound as he grinded them together, looking more jumpy now more than ever.  
  
“so can i read ya a bedtime story or not?”  
  
You folded your arms behind you. At least he wasn’t demanding you do it, like a certain someone would.  
  
You weren’t sure how truthful he was being about his intentions, but his ever-growing eye bags never slipped past you. “As long as you promise not to do anything weird, and _don’t_ think I won’t tell Sir Sans or Sir Black if you do.”  
  
The skeleton quickly coughed out a retort to mimic disappointment at your threat, but you saw the way his shoulders fell from their hunched position once you agreed- (an action you were more or less familiar with) a sign of relief.  
  
And so after another typical days worth of work, you made your way to your bedroom with a shuffling skeleton behind you.  
To be quite honest, you were more drained than you’d usually be on any given day. Between a schedule packed with the standard tasks, Black’s demands, Papyrus’ attempts to help (and somehow making things worse) and the additional stress of picking your way through Blue’s puzzles, (he had a newfound resolve after Black’s inability to solve them) you were bone-tired.  
  
After a quick shower (“wait, i thought you were okay with me readin’.” “I am, Sir, but I’m not okay with you being in my room when I bathe.” “aw, whaddya bein’ so shy for?” “…I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Sir Red.”) you let Red into your room and hopped into bed, making yourself cozy.  
  
What? A bedtime story was a rare treat nowadays- even if the storyteller was Red.  
  
“kid.”  
  
You emerge from your flimsy bed covers to peek at Red, who’s shifting foot from foot uncomfortably. “don’t you have a chair or anythin’?”  
  
A glance at your more than modest room would answer the question: you barely had anything more than a bed, a wardrobe and a nightstand.  
You consider making him sit on the floor for a moment, but seeing his panicky state, you almost want to tuck Red in and read _him_ a bedtime story.  
  
Instead, you shift your legs a bit and motion for him to come closer. “Would you be alright with sitting on my bed, Sir Red?”  
  
Red offers a shaky grin, winking at you in an extremely unconvincing way. “h-heh. i thought you’d neva ask, sweetie.”  
  
After he finally manages to shuffle his way over to you, he sits down at the end of the mattress with a hearty plop. The bed sinks with his additional weight, though you can’t say you mind- as long as his hands stay out of your personal space.  
  
“nice place ya got.”  
  
You want to bark an insult at him for being so condescending, but one glimpse at him is enough to placate you. Though you had noticed earlier that the skeleton was being a lot stranger than usual, you failed to realize how marginally awkward he was being.  
For someone as rudely straightforward as Red, the small-talk was glaringly out of place; but he only seemed to notice this himself after your consistent staring.  
  
He twiddled with his fingers, the pinpricks in his eyes flitting everywhere in your room at once.  
  
“so uh, ya got any books for me to read?”  
  
Reading bedtime stories from a book? How uncreative of him! You almost want to chide him for such a ridiculous infraction of the rules from imagination-wonderland, but you decide against it. (For his sake or yours, you still aren’t too sure.)  
  
“Sir Red, I do not have any books of my own. I’m afraid you’ll have to make up your own.”  
  
The color drained from Red’s already-pale bones, and he wrung his hands nervously. “make my own? that’s uh…” His backs of his fibula make soft thumps against your bed as he swings his feet. “…don’t’cha have a cookbook, or a dictionary or somethin’?”  
  
You try your best to force your gurgle of laughter back down your throat, though in the tranquility of the room, you’re sure that Red hears the choking sound you make.  
Was he being serious? He’d rather read off a page of a dictionary than try to make his own bedtime story? Well, you had give him props-that was a definite way to put someone to sleep. Unfortunately for him, you had no books in your custody- and that included a dictionary.  
  
You sighed. “Sir Red, I promise you that I own no books.”  
  
Red raised a hand to rub his skull with, seeming even more at conflict with the tragic absence of educational material than you are and ever will be.  
  
“Excuse me Sir Red, but if you don’t want to do this, you can go back to bed. I won’t mind.”  
  
He shook his head stubbornly, eyes narrowed and glaring holes into the floor. You can practically hear the stress rolling off of him in waves. “i’ll do it, i’ll do it. just… give me a moment to come up with somethin’.”  
  
And so you lie in bed and wait, listening to the slight breeze rustling the trees outside. The symphony of some sparse crickets are heard through your window, branches brushing along the glass panes softly, humming you a lullaby that you’ve been falling asleep to lately.  
Your time at the manor was undeniably demanding, yet you can’t recall a moment where you had nearly as many people genuinely… caring(?) about you.  
  
Sans hardly shows it, but you know he’s constantly watching over you, making sure you’re comfortable in the manor and warding Black and Red off when their harassment gets too severe. You had to appreciate the many times Sans had saved your skin in tough times.  
  
Papryrus was irrefutably generous with the care he showered you in, offering to help cook lunch and dinner (he was still asleep while you prepared breakfast) whenever he could- though you denied his kindness with a smile and shivers running up your spine.  
Perhaps he was such a sweetheart because he knew what it felt like to crave for affection as well- especially in such a new environment.  
  
Blue cared for you in a similar manner as Papyrus, though he was arguably more subtle with his attempts to help. Instead of simply asking if you needed assistance, he’d go out of his way to place japes at Black’s feet, then outright denying it. (“NUH-UH! I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN, MISS MAID LADY!”)  
  
Orange was quite the lazy fellow, but even he had ways to make your stay more comfortable. He’d spend around ten minutes “sleeping in” after you woke him up, and when you re-entered his room later in the day to tidy things up (as you did with all your master’s rooms) you’d find that his room looked a lot less like a tornado has passed through- save for the occasional scattered books and half-empty honey jars on the floor.  
  
Of course Black and Red were the only exceptions to this quality- yet one of them is here reading you to sleep- even if it _is_ a “habit” like he says it is.  
  
Speaking of which, you feel like you’ve been waiting _forever._ “I hate to interrupt, Sir Red, but-”  
  
“-once upon a time.” Red intervened curtly, looking worse for wear. “there lived, uh. a princess.”  
  
Ahh. You settled into your bed again, fluffing your pillow and snuggling into the covers. Off to a rough start, but he was getting there. This is what you were waiting for.  
  
“the princess was in a tower. yeah.”  
  
Humming in approval, you sink deeper into the mattress and Red pauses, as if taking your noise into consideration. You practically feel his confidence growing with each word- yes, this was what you wanted to hear!  
  
“and there was a dragon.”  
  
Huh, that was kind of a cliché, but you weren’t about to complain.  
  
“and the dragon-”  
  
You were beginning to get hooked on this story!  
  
“-it killed her. the end.”  
  
What.  
  
You patiently waited for him to continue, or say “haha, just kiddin’ kid” but it never came. You crack one eye open to look at the skeleton, who’s propped up on your bed looking quite proud of his newfound story-telling abilities.  
  
“Uh, Sir Red?”  
  
His spine droops a little at your tone. “yeah, kid?”  
  
“I’m sorry for asking, but have you ever read a storybook before?”  
  
He gives an uncomfortable chuckle, his fingers picking at the hem of his red and black jacket. “of course i have. i’ve read a total of one. that’s a lot.”  
  
You silently agree, since you never took him as the reading type in the first place. “And which one was that?”  
  
“…grumpy bunny. it was papyrus’ favorite bedtime story.” He adds the last bit hastily.  
  
You feel your lungs collapse with the stress you were forcing on them to not laugh. Black? His Highness Black? Destroyer of all things good _Black?_ Grumpy Bunny? Wasn’t that book for baby bones? Alright, inhale- exhale. You were a mature adult with a mature mindset, and something like this wasn’t going to make you any-  
  
“don’t tell him i told you.”  
  
You let out a guffaw of laughter, but slap your hands over your mouth before Red can get more flustered.  
  
“h-hey! i’m serious, if he figures out i told ya…” He raises his metacarpals to his teeth and nibbles at them as you would with nails, and you decide to give him some mercy.  
  
“Rest assured, Sir Red. I will keep His Highness’ reading preferences between us.”  
  
He seems to calm at that, but he says nothing.  
  
A sheet of silence drapes over the both of you, and you gradually begin to feel sleepier. Just as you begin to doze off, Red notices and begins to panic, clearly not yet satisfied.  
  
“what? you’re tired already, kid?”  
  
You jolt back into consciousness, still a bit drowsy. “Huh? Yeah, a little… If you’re not going to tell a story then…” You yawn halfway into your sentence, “…I’d much prefer you left me to rest, Sir Red.”  
  
He shoves his hands back into his pocket, and he swings his feet too hard and a slipper flies off of one of his bony feet. He ignores it. “look chum,” he appears to be irritated, but a bit desperation worms its way into his voice “ifya don’t stay awake, i’ll hafta make sure you never sleep well again-”  
  
“-I’m awake, I’m awake.” You grumble, limbs spread out and exasperated. You weren't going to get some shuteye anytime soon.  
  
“What if we made the story together? It’d be easier that way.” The quicker you got this grump out of here, the better.  
  
Before he can reject your idea and wrestle the opportunity of sleeping out of your grasp, you begin the story for him.  
  
“Once upon a time, there was a princess that was revered by all of her kingdom.”  
  
You catch Red’s eye twitch in either agitation or anxiety- probably both- before you close your eyes and try to concentrate.  
  
“She was beloved by her people for her generosity and kind heart.”  
  
“and she had no family.”  
  
You roll along with Red’s antagonistic ideas only because he seems to be legitimately trying his best.  
  
“…Except for her sister. She _also_ had a very dear friend who was the prince of a neighboring kingdom!”  
  
“but her sister wanted everyone dead. especially her friend.”  
  
You pop an eyelid open to see if Red was purposely hassling you with unreasonably angsty plot, but you’re quite surprised to find he seems to be unusually immersed in the tale.  
  
“And no one else knew this, other than herself. This was kept a secret from all the staff and even her very own sibling.”  
  
“one day they decided to visit her friend, both of ‘em. but they couldn’t because rich people have so much crap they can’t carry it from kingdom to kingdom. rich people are so stupid.”  
  
You ignore his last comment mostly because he had just unwittingly insulted himself. “So they decided to bring a maid with them to the castle to help with luggage.”  
  
“and the evil sibling wanted to poison her sister’s friend with food. intentionally. not because she’s bad at cooking or anything.”  
  
“…And so she added a single teabag containing Oleander into the batch.”  
  
“she ordered the maid to kill him. didn’t allow her to tell anyone, or she’d be in for a bad time.”  
  
“The prince grew very sick.”  
  
“he died.”  
  
“The end.”  
  
The words hung in the air for a while, the mood growing stale and somber.  You half expected Red to protest your abrupt ending, but he’s leaning against the bedpost looking contented and… A little sleepy…?  
  
He’s finally shed that jumpy manner he had earlier, his breathing less strained and bones a little looser.  
As strange as it was, maybe he _was_ telling the truth about not being able to sleep without reading someone a bedtime story.  
  
Slowly, your body relaxes into the bed, weariness overtaking you as the worries in your mind slowly slip away into nothingness.  
Ah, the sweet release of slumber…  
  
_Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z….  
_  
Your ears picked up on the rude and obnoxious snoring of your friendly neighboring skeleton.  
  
Right. He was still here.  
You nudge his hipbones softly with your feet, jostling him from his slumber. Red awakens with a scowl, sending you a cross glare that you couldn’t take seriously with his sleepy tone. “whhaat.” It came out as an expression of disgruntlement more than a question.  
  
“Sir Red,” You contemplated telling him to get lost so you could catch some Z’s, but your curiosity steered you away from that. “Why’d you suddenly decide to tell _me_ a story tonight?”  
  
Red shifted apprehensively, kicking off his other slipper to cross his legs on your bed. “heh. its kind of a funny story.”  
  
“Oh, so _now_ you have a story?”  
  
You didn’t need to open your eyes to know Red was glowering at you.  
  
“yeah." he said gruffly "boss overheard orange readin’ Puffy Bunny to that pipsqueak berry. he didn’t wanna hear me read anymore because he said ‘such childish practices are for babybones,’ or somethin’ like that.”  
  
“Sir Orange reads to Blue, too? Is this some kind of family tradition?” You joked.  
  
Surprisingly, Red answered with a kind of forlorn sincerity. “yeah, I guess so. i’ve been readin’ to boss ever since his femurs were as small as my fingers.” He wiggles his fingers to emphasize his point. “he’s always been such a loud sack of bones.”  
  
With the way that Black towers over Red in both height and superiority, it was easy for you to forget how Red was the older of the two. However, in this moment, you could see that Red was more mature in many more ways than just stature and attitude.  
  
“How long has he been keeping this up?”  
  
Red slumped into the backboard behind him, propping up his head with an arm. “two or three months. give or take.”  
  
Your eyebrows furrowed. Didn’t he say he couldn’t sleep without reading someone something?  
  
“How’d you sleep then?”  
  
He chuckled lowly, and you caught sight of his glinting gold tooth. “i didn’t.”  
  
You scoffed. He was exaggerating! There was no way anyone could survive that long without sleep without falling into dementia.  
The atmosphere of general uneasiness told you otherwise.  
  
“…Aren’t you tired?”  
  
“monsters need less sleep than humans, so yeah. I’m doin’ alright.”  
  
Last time you checked, all of the other skelebrothers had snoozed for at least an hour each night, but you didn’t call him out on his bluff.  
  
“what about you, sweetcheeks? you been livin’ it up here with paps and berry and whatnot?” Mixed into part of the otherwise thoughtful question, there seemed to be something acutely accusatory.

“I’m grateful for the roof over my head and the care I receive from select masters.”  
  
You hear him huff indignantly at your implications. “i ain’t never seen blue take a likin’ to someone so fast before.”  
  
Well, this was getting awfully uncomfortable.  
You try to change the subject.  
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sir Sans or Sir Blue with a gold tooth, why is it that you have one?” He _did_ seem like quite a flashy skeleton, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he got one simply because it was something he could afford.  
  
Red is quiet for a second, and you begin to wonder if you had somehow offended him.  He shrugs nonchalantly.  
  
“well, since ya asked so nicely i guess i’ll answer.” He gives himself a chortle and that seems to shake off whatever had been holding him back. “i’ve been in some tough brawls, sweetcheeks. glad ya think i’m so loaded, but this tooth ain’t gold.”  
  
Now that you thought about it, his tooth _did_ seem a little lackluster to be solid gold. You think back to all the times he scowled or laughed at a bad joke or your misfortune: the edges of the tooth wearing away to show a greyish hue.  
  
“Is it made of metal?”  
  
“heh. you’re pretty sharp huh? yeah. it used to be papyrus’ royal guard badge. money was tight and we needed a tooth before all the magic bled outta me.” He slouched lower into the bed. “i woulda been fine without it, honestly. but that sucker just kept pesterin’ me, sayin’ how it didn’t matter because the surface didn’t need the royal guard anymore.”  
  
Who would’ve thought? Perhaps Black was kinder than he let on- though you had difficulty believing it yourself. Besides, didn’t foreign metals interact negatively with gums? Maybe monster bodies worked in a different way than human bodies.  
  
“Haven’t you ever gotten an infection from the weird mixture of metal and gold?”  
  
“that’s unavoidable, but treatable. didya know mustard used to be used as a disinfectant?”  
  
You grimaced thinking about the amount of stinging that would cause. “No, and I don’t wanna try it out.”  
  
You hear him tap his fingers against the tooth, making a tinkering clinking sound. “understandable.”  
  
Another stretch of silence fell between you two, but far more comfortable (as comfortable as it can be with Red on the same bed as you.) than the last few times.  
  
After a moment of scattered thinking, you ask “Why don’t you have it changed, now that you can afford it?”  
  
“maybe im a sentimental prick?”  
  
You roll your eyes underneath your eyelids.  
  
“but uh. about that pipsqueak.”  
  
You want to groan in distress. You thought you were both over this- for some reason Red seemed to think you were unfairly more drawn to Blue than anyone else (Which wasn’t exactly untrue, but who could blame you?) and you really weren’t willing to-  
  
“he’s not as sweet as he seems, sweetcheeks.”  
  
“What?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Well, Blue is sweeter than him anyday, that's for sure.  
  
Red’s face twists into a grimace that (for once) isn’t directed at you. “yeah. kid’s got this whole shtick for bein’ innocent. some of us can see past it, but it’s either they don’t care or don’t know.”  
  
“…What do you mean?”  
  
“there’s a lot more to this family than ya wanna know.” He ignores your question. “don’t stick your nose where it don’t belong, babe. or it might come clean off. i would know.” He taps at his nasal bone with a strange smile. Twisted humor?  
  
Before you can interrogate him on his claims any further, there are hard rasps on your flimsy bedroom door.  
“BROTHER, ARE YOU IN THERE?”  
  
Both you and Red jump at the sudden noise and both of you look at each other, alarmed, all traces of sleepiness gone.  
  
“its boss.” Red hisses, fumbling with his fingers again. “shit, what do i do?”  
  
You had to agree that this was quite the predicament. If Black had somehow connected the dots the wrong way, he’d either kick Red into the next lifetime or worse- fire you. Probably both.  
  
Quickly, you let out a yelp- to which Red snaps his head to you at.  
  
“hey kiddo be quiet-!”  
  
“BROTHER?”  
  
“Ow! Don’t do that!” You reach over to your nightstand and topple it over, making a ruckus. “Sir Red, I said I was sorry!”  
  
You jump off the bed and land on the floor with a loud and convincing thud, and Red jolts violently before realizing your plan.  
  
“Get off of me!” You kick the wall so hard your toes kinda hurt and Red makes quick work of your bed, tossing the sheets and the pillow haphazardly.  
  
“im lettin’ ya off with a warnin’, kid. don’t you dare say anythin’.”  
  
Despite the theatrical situation, you sense an underlying meaning in his spontaneous script.  
  
Red walks over to the door slams it open, revealing Black in his sleepwear looking curious.  
  
“BROTHER! WHAT WAS GOING ON IN HERE?” He looks mildly pleased with the mess in your room.  
  
Red let his shoulders go up and fall down. “havin’ a chat with the maid.”  
  
When Black looks over at you, you melodramatically toss yourself onto the bed, cradling your head with your hands. Oh boo hoo.  
  
“HMPH! I SEE! FINALLY PUT IN YOUR PLACE, HUMAN?”  
  
You respond with a histrionic sob into your hands and feel Red glaring knives in your back telling you to stop. Tough luck buddy. Take the help or get smacked into the next kingdom.  
  
Nevertheless, Black is pleased with your reaction.  
  
“so boss, why were ya lookin’ for me?”  
  
Black scoffs, as if the answer is apparent, but words his reply carefully. “FOR MY… NIGHTLY INCANTATION, OF COURSE!”  
  
Grumpy Bunny.  
  
“…I’VE BEEN HAVING TROUBLE SLEEPING WITHOUT IT.”  
  
You mask your laughter with fits of hysterical crying and Red gives off a dangerous vibe.  
  
“…yeah, boss. let’s go before she wakes up the whole. damn. house.”  
  
You laugh harder as the door slams closed behind you.  


* * *

  
The next morning, you’re carrying laundry back to their respective owners when you bump into Red (Who is precariously sipping at an entire bottle of mustard.)  
  
Both you and Red pause for a bit, the events of the previous night replaying in your minds.  
  
You give him a warm smile.  
  
“…I’m glad you told me all of that yesterday, Sir Red.”  
  
He pulls the bottle from out between his teeth just as a familiar voice calls him from around the corner.  
  
“BROTHER, KEEP YOUR MUSTARD OFF MY INGENIOUS JAPES!”  
  
His teeth curl into a small, unadulterated smile, his noticeably more-metallic-than-gold tooth flashing in the light.  
  
“don’t be, sweetcheeks. it was only the sleepiness talkin’.”  
  



	6. A Princess Must Find Her Color

“SO, HUMAN? ARE YOU GOING TO STARE AT ME ALL DAY? OR ARE YOU GOING TO ANSWER ME?”

Your throat felt dry, hands clammy.

“Erm…” You had been cleaning some of the windows in the study, only for Black to come barreling in, pinching one of your most beloved items in between his fingers like a dirty rag.

Drats. You had thought that no one would notice the extra book in the book room.

Towering over you menacingly, Black dangled the worn novel between two phalanges. “DO NOT MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF, PEASANT!”

You wracked your mind for solutions, but came up with only a handful- those of which required some brutal hand to hand combat with a seven-foot skeleton. Now that you thought about it, those didn’t quite qualify as a solution- not for you, anyways.

Left with nothing else but your quick wit, you quickly dished out something that would surely leave His Highness Black speechless at your intellectual prowess:

“…Sorry?”

His sharp canines pulled into a dangerous sneer. “NOT WHAT I ASKED FOR, AND THEREFORE NOT GOOD ENOUGH!” He regarded you with a rather nasty side eye, then proceed to flip through the pages of your novel, red eyelights scanning over the small print rapidly.

You feel sweat beading on your forehead, your fingers itching with the dire desperation to snatch the book out of Black’s hands.

  
Usually, you’d be fine with someone nosing through one of your books. In fact, you’d be willing to bet all of your belongings (not that there was much to lose) that His Highness Black would benefit from the pleasures of reading. A monster such as him who always had so much time to torture others needed some hobbies, and reading was just the thing to placate his murderous tendencies.

And you weren’t keeping Black from the book because it was bad! In fact, it had been one of the better ones you had read in a while.  
Ah yes, with such a strong heroine and so many unpredictable, spiraling plot twists, you often found yourself unwilling to put the book down. It was just that this particular story contained rather… Steamy relationships.

Something you _really_ didn’t want to explain to Black right now.

“Your Highness Black," You implored, "that book is quite important to me. Could I please have it back?”

He spared you a glance before returning to the book. “AH! SO IT IS IMPORTANT YOU SAY? WHAT SECRETS COULD SOMEONE LIKE YOU _POSSIBLY_ BE HIDING?”

The way he said that reminded you of an evil villain attempting to find the hypothetical kryptonite of a super hero; and although you were sure Black could pass off as an antagonist in a cinema film, you couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen _you_ of all people to make miserable.  
You weren't a hero, and you didn't have any secret weaknesses- you just wanted your book back.

“Your Highness Black,” You reached for the book “I assure you, there are no secrets in that book. Can I-”

Before your hands even made contact with his bones, his eyes lit up- it reminded you somehow of Papyrus and Blue- something you supposed would look cute if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a raging psychopath most of the time.

At the sudden change in demeanor, your adrenaline fueled courage was suddenly sapped from you and you immediately decided to draw your hand back to safety.

Well, that was- you had attempted to.

Before you could fully retract, Black had a free hand clasped around your wrists, anchoring you into your awkward position beside him, a wicked grin plastered on his face.

"OH? THERE MUST BE SOMETHING YOU ARE CONCEALING WITHIN THESE PAGES! I'VE NEVER SEEN YOU ATTEMPT TO INITIATE A PHYSICALITY WITH ME. YOU MUST BE DESPERATE."

"Black-" His grip on you tightened "-Your Highness Black, I wouldn't say I was starting a 'physicality,' I just-"

As you expected, your explanation fell on death ears. Clearly, Black was much more interested in the book than in your shot at retribution.   
Just when the silence that stretched between you two became nearly as painful as the pressure on your arms, the terrifying skeleton spoke up.

“’SHE NEARLY SOBBED FROM WANT, HER ARMS PINNED TO HER SIDES AS A HAND BRUSHED HER CHEEK-’”

No way. To your absolute horror, Black had begun to read a passage out loud. You tugged at your hands, but his iron grip did not budge. You wondered if it would be worth it to scream for Sans. Would Black-inflicted-death come before help did? Most likely.

"Your Highness- Er, Sir?" You pleaded, hoping to appeal to him, "Please,  _please_ stop reading that aloud!" You threw a quick glance at the door behind you two.   
Phew. No one, yet.

You bristled in both frustration and embarrassment as your efforts to lower his volume went completely unnoticed.

This was it- once Black realizes what he’s reading is nothing but dirty smut, there was no doubt he would shame you for it as long as you lived. (Or at least, as long as you resided in the mansion- which would be a loooong while.)  
Maybe he’d even go as far as humiliating you in front of his brothers! You felt your face pale at the thought of poor little Blue being exposed to such material, then asking Orange about the birds and the bees- or was it the birds and the bones?

Who knows? Who cared?! It was the end for your relationships with them regardless.

Just when you decided that packing your bags would be a good idea, Black finally concluded his session of verbal harassment, though his unrelenting grip remained on you.

There was a long pause, and you dared a glimpse of his face.

Unsurprisingly, he bore the countenance of someone who just learned all of the secrets of his worst enemy- which somehow ended up being you.  
A smug smile was smeared across his face from cheekbone to cheekbone, eyesockets narrowed venomously.

You gulped and as you reassessed the situation, you made careful note of just how  _frightening_ Black was. Sharp gaze, sharp bones, sharp voice- everything about him could cut you into pieces easily. You hadn’t felt dread quite as intense as this since you had first moved in.

“THIS IS…”

You shrunk back, though it wasn’t as effective as you hoped since Black was still hanging onto you.

“THIS IS…!”

You grimaced, ready to take the brunt of the entire ordeal. “An absolute monstrosity?” “Shameful and disgusting?” “A whole two-hundred-and-seventy-nine pages of pure regret?”

“…THE BEST TORTURE ADVICE I’VE EVER READ!”

You let out a sigh of relief and a noise of utter confusion at the same time, resulting in a weird croaking noise that Black seemed to enjoy. So that was it? This whole situation was just a way to torture you?

He released you with a haughty laugh, and you nursed your sore hands as he noisily bookmarked the page with a neat dogear.  
“I’VE NEVER READ SUCH DELIGHTFULLY GROTESQUE MATERIAL BEFORE!” He boasted, “SO MUCH SCREAMING AND BODILY FLUID- THE HUMAN IN THIS BOOK MUST BE EXPERIENCING QUITE A MORBID DEATH!”

Knowing Black, you should have corrected him before things got out of hand. However, before you could get a word in, he was already parading himself out of the room.

“AS FOR YOU, HUMAN?” You jolted when he turned to face you. “I WOULD SLEEP WITH ONE EYE- NO, _TWO_ EYES OPEN! IN FACT, DO NOT SLEEP AT ALL! NYAHAHA!”

With an echoing cackle, he swept himself out of the room, taking your book with him.

Your body relaxed as soon as he vanished from your sight, but something told you the whole ordeal wasn’t over quite yet.

 

* * *

That same afternoon, you found yourself in the lobby with Sans and Papyrus.

While you had been serving the two skeletons their tea, Sans had noticed that you looked extremely pale.

“you alright there, kid? you look a little…” He took a drink from his porcelain teacup “…in-sip-id.”

Hardy-Har-Har, Sans.

Papyrus sighed indignantly and scooted a cushion further from Sans, who was still basking in the glory of his terrible joke.

“SANS! THAT JOKE ISN’T FUNNY IN ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, AND ESPECIALLY NOT IN THIS ONE! MISS (Y/N) ACTUALLY LOOKS CLOSER TO DEATH THAN ANY OF US!” Papyrus began sweating, “WHICH IS CONCERNING! BECAUSE WE ARE SKELETONS.”

Sans made a crack at sitting up to take a better look at you, only to sink further into the pillows. It was the thought that counts.

“shucks kid. paps is right, you’re white as bone. theres bound tibia something bothering you. whats eatin' at ya?”

Normally, you’d laugh at Papyrus’s sorry attempt at appearing upset at Sans, but you were still too preoccupied with what had happened this morning to really pay any attention to what was going on.

  
Sans seemed to notice your silence, and moved aside to provide more room on the couch. He patted the cushion between he and his brother, bone against pillows making a weird pittering noise.

“why dont you take a break for a bit? housework can wait, im sure.”

Considering your anxiety has been tiring you out more than your chores usually do, you decide to accept his generous offer.  
Plopping down between Sans and Papyrus, you allow the soft plushness of the couch to swallow you, minding the space you kept between the two.

You never knew when Black would tell others about your guilty pleasure, and you weren't sure if that made your anxiety better or exponentially worse.

Papyrus offers you his cup of tea, which you politely refuse. Your throat felt too closed up to consume anything, anyways.

“so, you seem a little tired today.”

“YES! I FIND THAT QUITE ODD, CONSIDERING MOST OF YOUR DAILY CHORES WERE REPLACED WITH STARING LIFELESSLY INTO A WALL OR ANOTHER INSENTIENT OBJECT!”

Oh?

You didn’t think anyone would notice the pep talks you gave yourself throughout the day- most of them trying to convince you of how you didn’t need friends for this job anyways- so even if Black _did_ expose you, there was nothing to lose! Really.  
Unfortunately, they didn’t work, which led to those strange staring sessions Papyrus picked up on.

Sans gestured to your slightly bruised wrists, which Papyrus peered over to look at, tittering with clear disapproval.

“was it edge or red, then?”

You snapped to attention, turning to look at Sans.  
Geez, these two were a lot more observant than you initially gave them credit for, especially combined.

  
Even so, you couldn’t get Black into trouble without risking embarrassment. Besides, didn’t he still have your book hostage? That schemer…

You wished you could say he had probably foreseen and had taken the book as a counterattack for your tattling, but he honestly seemed too excited this morning to think beyond five minutes into the future. Still... You couldn't be too careful. With a heavy heart, you turn away Sans's assistance.

“Thank you for your concern, Sir Sans, but it wasn’t either of them. I was carrying groceries on my arms and I guess they were pretty heavy, haha!”

Although his grin hadn’t shifted a millimeter, Sans regarded you with skepticism, eyesockets narrowing scruntinizingly.

“heya sans.”

Phew! Was this the second time Orange had saved you from an otherwise awkward situation? You were curious about his impeccable timing, but you didn’t mind as long as it meant you were out of trouble.

Orange sauntered leisurely into the room, Blue tailing behind him whilst eagerly babbling excitedly about something you couldn’t catch.

Sans allowed his eyelights to wander on your face for a few seconds before he slid back into his original slumped posture, greeting Orange casually.

“’sup orange, blueberry.”

Orange took a seat on the couch opposite yours, and Blue bounded over to you immediately, clambering into your lap like an overexcited dog. (Luckily, bones were a lot lighter than they looked, and so your legs survived the rambunctious bouncing of Blue)

“MISS (Y/N)! THERE YOU ARE! I WAS WONDERING WHY YOU HADN’T DELIVERED MY AFTERNOON TEA YET! I WAS GOING TO SHOW YOU MY SUPER COOL NEW HATCHET PUZZLE!” He gives your shoulders a little shake for emphasis. "IT'S TRIGGERED BY THE DOOR OPENING! THEN IT SWINGS RIGHT IN FRONT OF IT!" 

Blue then proceeded to demonstrate with his hands, making "SWOOSH!" noises along with the pendulum movements.

"Oh dear, Sir Blue..." You tried to find the right words to describe your terror "...That sounds absolutely delightful!" Not at all pain inducing.

Orange chuckled lowly, reclining into the cushions, his eyes trained on you.

Suddenly, you were a lot more aware of the proximity between you and his little brother.

“maybe you should show those to red first, blueberry? he seems awfully close to miss (y/n) lately, i’m sure he’d wanna test out your cool new puzzle before miss (y/n) does.”

Although Orange had started off the statement lightly, it felt somewhat accusatory. His voice held a strange edge in it that you didn’t recognize, and didn't feel too comfortable with.

…Though, you couldn’t quite disagree with him. After that incident with the bedtime story, Red had been extremely wary; as if he was worried you’d run and tell Black. After it became apparent you weren’t going to rat him out, he was a lot easier on you.  
Of course, he still found small ways to irritate you- like hiding the broom or loosening the doorknobs. As annoying as it was sometimes, you had to admit that his teasing was _mostly_ friendly.

Orange blinked lazily at you, his usual grin in place. It appeared that you weren't the only one who had noticed his change in behavior.

“whats that, paps? ya dont sound too happy there.” Ah yes, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Orange didn't turn around to face him, but you noticed how his skull shifted a bit in his direction. "nah. ya must be hearin things. its a side effect of loosin sleep." His grin twitched. "you should know plenty about that, right?"

Red took a seat on the armrest of Orange's sofa, issuing a challenge that didn't go unnoticed by the others in the room.

What the heck was going on between those two? What was with the passive aggressive jabs?

Before things could escalate, you cleared your throat to intervene. "Hello, Sir Red. What brings you to the lobby?" He was usually just holed up in his room, doing... Whatever he did up there.  
Red eyed you with a bit of a smirk, ignoring your question. “ey doll. this is where youve been? boss wont like that yer slackin.”

You tried not to scoff and roll your eyes. As if Black could get you into any more trouble. Besides, Sans had been the one to give you a break- and wasn’t the one signing paychecks the one in charge?

“Good afternoon, Sir Red. Rest assured, I was only taking a momentary break.” With a sigh, you pick yourself back up, easing Blue’s whining with a few sugar cubes from the tea tray. “I’ll get back to work right away.”

"MISS (Y/N)! YOU DIDN'T PLAY WITH ME AT ALL TODAY! NOW YOU'RE LEAVING SO QUICKLY?" He puffed out his cheeks, and you had to restrain yourself from suffocating him in a hug. "THAT'S NO FAIR!"

"I'm sorry, Sir Blue. I still have a lot of chores to do today."

“aw comeon, i was only jokin with ya. or are ya just itchin to leave because im here-”

You gave Red a look, which had resulted in a cheesy grin and ducking his head. You think back to when Papyrus had mentioned your weird staring. Yeah, you had a  _lot_ of work to do... But talking with all the skeletons _had_  made you feel better, and you were glad Sans pulled you out of your cleaning routine to have a bit of down-time.

Perhaps you had been overreacting about all of this?

“HUMAN!” Like lightening, a certain voice cracked through the room.

So much for that thought.

Black strode into the room, his red cape sweeping behind him like his own personal hellfire- and he was headed straight towards you.  
You had half a mind to run and duck behind one of the others, but somewhere in the back of your mind you knew this was inevitable- you might as well save face before being socially exiled.

And so you had faced him head on, somewhat thankful that you had the back of an empty lounge chair to support most of your weight- your knocking knees wouldn’t be of any help to you now.

  
You searched his hands for the book- but surprisingly, it wasn’t there.

“I’VE BEEN DOING A LOT OF THINKING SINCE THEN!” Black's voice pierced through the thick air, which had been jovial moments before. Everyone was watching, unsure of what was going on, and whether or not to intervene.

You felt a little faint.

“I’VE BEEN THOROUGHLY INFORMED OF ALL KINDS OF TORTURE BEFORE, BUT-” He leered down at your shockingly steadfast form, “-I’VE PICKED THE MOST INTERESTING TO SUIT ME, THE TERRIBLE PAPYRUS'S, TASTES!”

It crossed your mind that you had enough time during his monologue to prepare yourself for a mad dash to the door, but with everyone's eyes trained on you, you couldn't move. Not with Black's eyes pinning you to the floor like this, anyways.  
“Y-Your Highness Black, please don’t drag this out longer than it-”

Suddenly, your world was flipped upside down.

Literally.

Black had somehow successfully pulled you away from the chair and had _dipped_ you in the middle of the goddamned room.

The dip was low enough that you scrambled for purchase on Black’s shoulder armor, and you wondered what kind of sick and twisted torture required exotic dancing.

  
Before you could ask any questions, you felt your breath catch. You felt hard, bony fingers pressing into your hips _just_ hard enough to make you acknowledge their presence, another (surprisingly gentle) hand trailing up your side and into your hair.

“H-huh? Black, what are you-!”

Confusion bled into shock when the gentle touch ended in Black pulling your hair taught, forcing your chest out and your head backwards to meet Black’s eyes, which seemed to gleam with both fearsome pride and... Intrigue? Wait a second- he didn't correct you for calling him Black? What kind of weird trick was he trying to pull now?

You could feel his ribs pressing into your front, strong, sturdy, and sharp. There was a warmth emanating from his chest, what was that? Despite the obviously suggestive position, Black’s eyes didn’t seem to convey any worry that the others were watching. His eyelights were only trained on you, and you weren't sure if your trembling was from it's intensity, or your fear. The domineering look he was giving you was  daring you to even try avoiding his gaze.

The black-clad skeleton lowered his face dangerously close to yours, his typical arrogant aura never leaving him, but rather mixing with this newer, more primal side.

What had gotten into him? Black was kind of an asshole sometimes, sure, but such a bold move seemed more like Red’s character- though the way Black held you was _a tad bit_ more aggressive than Red’s dirty remarks.

An uncharacteristically low voice came out of Black, you felt the deep rumble from his chest as he spoke. The surprisingly warm air that left his mouth brushed your face like a caress- you felt strangely hypnotized, maybe even...

...Intoxicated?

The scent of cherry medicine mingled with his next words, which stunted you out of your reverie.  
“RED IS A DARLING COLOR ON YOU.”

And then he was gone.

In typical Black fashion, he then proceeded to drop you, stunned and wide-eyed, onto the floor as if he was disposing of garbage. He carried himself to the exit with a purpose in his stride, as if he knew the rest of his brothers were watching him- watching _you_ - wordlessly.

You continued to lay on the carpeted floor (very soft, actually. It must've been expensive.) confused, and maybe even more befuddled than before.

Why hadn't he mentioned your book? What did he mean red was a “darling color on you?”

While trying to calm your breathing, Papyrus had gotten up and gently escorted you to the vacant chair you had been leaning on seemingly seconds ago. It was only then that you noticed all of their faces were colored, but as endearing as it was, they all seemed a little... Frustrated? Papyrus seemed to be the only one uneffected, though he had still stumbled a bit on his way to get you.

In the midst of swimming in confusion, you noticed Sans looking at the doorway Black had left though, then at your bruised wrists. He began to perspire and darkened to a deeper shade of cyan. What was up with that?

“H-HO BOY. DON’T MIND HIM, MISS (Y/N). EDGE IS A BIT…ECCENTRIC AT TIMES.”

“…what the hell was 'at?.” You heard Red mumble.

Orange placed a hand on his face, poorly concealing a light orange tint. "you and your brother are really... somethin else, red."

“WOWIE, MISS (Y/N)…" Blue blinked at you, the stars in his eyelights eerily still. "I DIDN’T NOTICE BEFORE, BUT YOU MUST’VE WORKED REALLY HARD TODAY! YOUR FACE IS ALL RED…”

You felt your face heat up more at Blue’s words, only just realizing your rampant heartbeat. “I-I’m red?”

Raising a hand to your cheek, you exhaled shakily. Sure enough, your face was burning.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, no promises, but how would you feel if there was some sinning in this story?


	7. A Maid Must Face Her Fears

After what had happened with Black, you took greater caution whilst dwelling in the mansion. Besides, with his unpredictable behavior, who knew what he would do next time? Knock you out with a brick? Seriously injure you? Sacrifice you to a hidden cult? All of the above?!

No thanks, not today.

You weren’t sure _what_ he had read in the book that had possessed him to do what he did, but you really didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.

Apparently, the other skeletal brothers also didn't feel comfortable allowing you to wander about with a plotting Black on the loose.

After sitting in an extremely awkward silence after the incident; you were left dazed in your seat as the skeletons exchanging not-so-subtle weary glances. After some of the worst whispering you had ever had the misfortune to hear in your life, Sans had generously decided to give you the day off.hhh

Of course, immediately after this news is dispatched, Blue leaps onto you like you were a bowl of glazed sweets, eyelights shining gleefully with an exclamation of happiness. (Much to Red’s dismay.) Out of the corner of your eye, you think you witness Sans and Orange relaxing further into their respective couches, shoulders falling from their previously strained position. You eyed them with suspicion, wondering if Sans had only given you the day off just to ensure you had a  bouncy blue bodyguard by your side.

Oh well, you weren’t going to complain about a day off.

"NYEH HEH HEH! HUMAN, YOU BETTER PREPARE YOURSELF FOR UNDERWHELMINGLY AMAZING BOARD GAMES, MADE OVERWHELMINGLY AMAZING BY THE COMPANY OF BLUEBERRY AND I!" Papyrus scooped you and Blueberry up with such ease that you did a double take and clung to his bones with your free hand, the other gripping Blueberry in fear he would fall. 

"Woah- Sir Papyrus! Please be more careful!"  
  
Okay, so maybe the "day off" was more like overtime?  
  
In response to your terror, the small blue skeleton threw two hands in the air, effectively thwarting your futile attempts to stay balanced, giving a hearty "MWEH HEH HEH!" as if this was typical behavior.  
You pull the reckless skeleton closer to you, trying your very best to avoid his flailing. As a final resort, you whip your head around to plead for help, but aside from the dirty look Red was giving Blue, and the dirty look Orange was giving Red, their nonchalance to the events unfolding confirmed that this was, indeed, normal.

Another abrupt lurch forced a squeak out of you, your knuckles going white at how tightly you clung onto both of the rambunctious skeletons.

"DO NOT WORRY, MISS (Y/N)! I WILL NOT LET YOU FALL! I AM QUITE GOOD AT... NOT LETTING PEOPLE FALL?"

You immediately disliked the way Papyrus questioned his own abilities. Although you trusted the gentle giant to never intentionally harm you, the truth was that he was  _tall._ Towering, even. If you fell from the even the height of his hips, there would be an undeniable bruise on your behind for the next week and a half.

Blue squirmed and tittered giddily, and you wondered if he secretly had a fear of heights that somehow converted into a fit-fueling adrenaline. "HEHE! PAPYRUS IS LIKE A RACECAR, MISS (Y/N)! I FEEL LIKE I'M FLYING WHENEVER HE CARRIES ME AROUND!" He paused to ponder, "HM! I GUESS PAPPY CARRIES ME AROUND TOO! BUT HE'S SLOW, SO HE'S MORE OF A ROCKETSHIP. A VERY STATIONARY, VERY TURNED OFF ROCKETSHIP."

Orange grunted lazily from his spot on the couch just as Papyrus hoisted you higher onto his forearms. 

It was a small movement, but it led to you wonder... How was someone composed solely of bone so strong? You had heard from Sans how Papyrus occasionally exercised, but were the other skeletons capable of superhuman strength like this? Just a glance at Sans and Orange would say otherwise.  
You cleared your throat, ready to inquire about skeletal strength, only to be cut off with a shriek as Papyrus launched out of the room without so much as blinking an eye at your weight.

Right, maybe you shouldn't assume things too quickly.  
  
The remainder of the afternoon was spent playing board games with Blue and Papyrus, who had claimed the key to winning was “SHAKING THE DICE REALLY HARD AND THEN HURTLING IT ACROSS THE ROOM. NO, SERIOUSLY! DO NOT LAUGH. TRY IT, HUMAN!”

After you three went through thirty minutes of dice hurtling, you unfortunately lost approximately five pairs of dice. Papyrus was the bearer of bad news, forlornly informing Blue that only a single pair remained, which resulted in both of them being a lot more careful with it

…A  _lot_ more careful.

You honestly loved both of these skeletons with all of your heart, but after an hour of watching them pick up the dice and setting it back down after a few extremely sluggish and exaggerated shakes, even _your_ patience was running thin. You were sure that the dice wasn't even being tossed around in their hands, which explains why they've booth been getting the same numbers for so many turns.

  
“Excuse me, Sir Papyrus,” You interrupted, pausing his slow-motion dye shaking. You lowered your tone to a hush, having known the skeleton long enough to remember what captured his attention “Shall I teach you a trick for rolling die the _perfect_ way?”

Paypyrus perked up instantly, eyelights brightening in a way that made your heart clench with endearment. “THE PERFECT WAY? IS IT LIKE ONE OF YOUR…” His eyes darted about secretively as if looking for eavesdroppers, “…MASTER CHEF SECRET TIPS?”

Blue beamed along with him, clasping his hands together eagerly. “WOWZERS! MORE SECRETS? MISS (Y/N), YOU SURE KNOW A LOT OF COOL THINGS!”

You winked at them, taking off your apron and forming a makeshift bowl on the floor with it.  
You take the dice from Papyrus’s hands gently, but for some reason he still jumps when your fingers brush against his. You look in his direction with a questioning smile, and he turns orange.

“You bet I do. Now take a look at this super top secret technique, guaranteed to roll your dice properly every time!”

As you cupped the dice in your hands, you realized the eerie resemblance between these two skeletons and Black.  
Affinity to puzzles? Fascination with mostly non-existent secrets? It was almost like they were alternate versions of one person...

Ugh, no way in hell did that made any sense at all.  
You internally chided yourself. Impossible! These two adorable cinnamon buns? Similar to Black? What were you even thinking?  
Papyrus and Blue were too sweet, and you couldn’t imagine a single bad bone in their bodies. Besides, how could anyone with such large twinkling doe-eyes have malicious intentions?  
You snuck a glance at them as you tossed the small cubes around in your palms. As expected, the two were completely enraptured, heads bobbing in perfect sync as they watched your hands like a pair of hawks- and was Papyrus taking notes?

You chuckled to yourself, finally tossing the dice into your apron. Yeah, right. If they were anything like Black, that would also mean they had to be  _superb_ actors.

Huh. Acting? Actually, that reminded you of something.

“MISS (Y/N)! YOU TOSSED THE DIE IN A NON-LOSING-THE-DIE WAY!” Blue clapped giddily, interrupting your thought process.

Papyrus nodded, equally as fascinated by your “secret.”

“PHENOMENAL! I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYONE TOSS IN SUCH A MEDIOCRE FASHION! IN FACT, WHENEVER I PLAY GAMES WITH SANS, HE THROWS THE DICE THROUGH TIME AND SPACE. IT TAKES TOO LONG FOR THEM TO COME BACK, SO I USUALLY JUST PLAY WITH BLUEBERRY.”

You watched, bemused and only slightly offended, as Papyrus put away his notes and slid his pen behind his ear. His lack of ears results in the pen clattering noisily onto the tiled floor beside him, though he paid it no mind and carried on as if nothing had happened.

Many thoughts ran through your mind as you stared at Papyrus, who was completely unphased by the entire ordeal.  
One of the many words that seemed to stick with you in your whirlwind of internal confusion was: “interesting.”

Luckily, before you could make a comment, the door to the game room opened behind you.

Papyrus’s facial expression brightened and he stuck up an arm to invite the guest over.  
“WHY HELLO THERE, BLACK! YOU CAME JUST IN TIME FOR US TO TEACH YOU THE SECRET OF ROLLING DICE!”

The way Papyrus had said that made you wish he had cheeks for you to pinch, but you were too preoccupied with _what_ he said rather than the way he said it.

You heard heavy leather boots clicking against the floors before you hear his voice.

“MOVE ASIDE, CHILDREN! I HAVE NO TIME FOR YOUR MEDDLESOME ACTIVITIES. I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, AM ONLY HERE FOR THE HUMAN!”

You twisted yourself around to face the direction of Black’s voice, trying to subtly shimmy yourself further from his approaching legs in vain.  
Memories of his fingers gripping at your sides and tugging at your hair washed over you like a cold tide, sending shivers up your spine.

Ah? Was it starting to get hot in here or was it just you?

“BLACK, IT SEEMS YOU ARE MISTAKEN! WE ARE, IN FACT, THE SAME AGE!” Papyrus declared unhelpfully.

One step closer. You noticed how his armor clicked quietly whenever he took a longer stride.

Blue pouted “HEY! WHAT ABOUT ME? I’M NOT AS OLD AS YOU _OR_ EDGE!”

He was getting closer.

Papyrus put a gloved hand to his chin, contemplating for a moment. “AH, YES. WELL, YOU ARE JUST AS GREAT AS US, AND THAT IS ALL THAT MATTERS!”

From here, you could practically see the terrifying fire in his eyelights.

“OH! HURRAH! WE CAN BE THE BEST AT EVERYTHING TOGETHER!”  
 Blue sprung to his feet rejoicing with Papyrus- only to stop short. With wide eyes, his cheering skidded to a halt and he pointed at the floor with one phalange.

 “UH-OH! EDGE, WATCH OUT-”

Everyone save yourself had turned their eyes to the floor, curious to see what Blue was warning about. You were much too guarded around Black to take your eyes off of him for more than a few seconds, but you managed to sneak a quick glance at the floor when you see his face contort in confusion.  
  
Wait a second- wasn’t that pen next to Papyrus a second ago?

Black makes a noise of akin to disgruntlement and surprise, having not noticed the pen prior to the warning.  
Even so, it was too late to stop the damage. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.  
Black’s shiny red boots, which didn’t have much traction to begin with (you predicted that they were made more for appearances than for function) slipped out from under him, his red eyelights contracting in shock.

When you saw Black falling in your direction, you swore you saw your life flash before your eyes.

How were you going to survive after the fell on you? He was all metal and spikes and armor, and all you had to protect you was a frilly dress. Even the apron you usually added to your outfit was discarded earlier!  
Naturally, you did what any other sensible person would do before a large, blundering, sociopathic skeleton fell onto them: you froze, and shut your eyes.

…

The lack of horrendous head trauma and bleeding wounds forced you to pry an eyelid open, and you wondered emptily if your soul had already left your physical body.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to see when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was NOT a seven foot tall skeleton being cradled in your outstretched arms.  
You breathed a sigh of relief when you found your arms undamaged by any of Black’s fancy armor. After all, if you had taken the brunt of the fall with your hands, it would’ve been extremely painful to use them for household chores.

Even with the lack of injuries, your body was still tense with anxiety for what the near future held.  
Black’s weigh bore down on your arms, his bones and body armor adding up to be a lot heavier than what you were usually accustomed to holding. Your muscles ached to drop him, but even in his state of stunned silence, the tall skeleton held a commanding air that froze your body, and you didn’t dare to let him fall even a millimeter.

Black slipped out of his reverie quickly, blank eyelights sharpening again into his typical piercing stare, although you sensed something about his aura that was amiss. Still, when he looked at you, you jolted.

“RELEASE ME.”

He was surprisingly tight-lipped after the fall. You feared he would slice through you with those teeth of his, or go on a rampage about the disorderly manner of the room. Board games and puzzles littered the floor, scattered throughout the room-that of which caused him to trip in the first place.

He did none of those things.

You stuttered, tongue feeling numb and clumsy from the adrenaline “I-I-”

“AT ONCE!”

At his demanding tone, your body reacted before your mind. A flash of terror washed over you and your arms snapped to your sides at his abrupt order.  
You yelped when you felt Black’s back collide onto your lap, flinching and nearly kicking him in the skull with your knee.

Jeez, it was one nightmare after another with him, wasn’t it?

You had dropped him so quickly you swore you heard his teeth click together, so it came as no surprise that Black was staring you down with the wrath of a thousand angered gods.  
You couldn’t even muster enough courage to mutter an apology, which, in hindsight, _probably_ wouldn’t have helped you all that much.

You felt your heart hammer madly in your chest, blood rushing in your ears. Everything about this situation screamed at you to KICK HIM OFF AND RUN, the feeling of uneasiness only multiplying when you see Black raise a gloved hand to strike you.

You braced yourself for the sting of a slap or a punch, and jerked when a cold glove brushed across the back of your neck.

What the-

Suddenly, you were pulled downwards, your forehead nearly bumping with an ivory skull. Black regarded you with a surprisingly sultry, half-lidded gaze, most of the anger from before almost imperceptible. (Almost. You still saw the way his teeth twitched downwards while recalling your clumsiness.)

A familiar heat begins to build on your face, your mouth running dry.

In a way that was so perfectly timed that it seemed almost practiced, he conjured a deep scarlet tongue and licked his teeth, giving you a dark look that somehow both knocked the wind out of you and forced your breath to hitch.  
In such a hushed tone, borderline growling, Black spoke:

“ARE YOU A BROOM? BECAUSE YOU JUST SWEPT ME OFF MY FEET.”

What.

“really, edge? that sucks, even coming from you.”

At the sound of Orange’s voice, Black’s grip on you slackened considerably and you were able to pull yourself away, bewildered.

Black scowled at the other skeleton, muttering something darkly under his breath. Based solely on the tone of his voice, you were extremely glad you couldn’t hear what he said.

Had Black really used a pickup line on you? And it was a familiar pickup line at that… Hadn’t the love interest used that one on the main character in the book he had taken from you?  
Why was Black using such cheesy lines anyways? You didn’t think he was the type to woo females with silly one-liners.

You felt a pair of hands hook under your arms and pull you upwards, helping you to your feet and forcing Black to sit up, glaring at your savior.

“hey now, no need for the hostility. look on the bright side,” Orange jerked his chin in the direction of an open window  “At least now you have a sense of humor.”

The other three skeletons turned to look at the window he gestured at.

Papyrus sighed, unimpressed. "WOW. AND HE SAYS  _YOU_ HAVE BAD JOKES!"

When they turned back around, you two were gone.

* * *

 

“Oh stars, I think I’m going to be sick.” You doubled over, balancing yourself by gripping a nearby oak drafting desk. One minute you and Orange had been in the game room, then there was a lurching, twisting feeling in your gut- like you would get on a swing- and now you were in the study? How?

“heh. sorry, miss (y/n). the ride can be a little bumpy if you aren’t used to it.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Did we just…?”

“teleport through time and space? you bet, doll.”

You grunted at the sound of Red’s deep voice.

“How?”

Both of them shrugged, a half smirk resting on their faces. “magic.”

Wonderful explanation. You didn’t feel like asking any more questions if they weren’t going to be answered, so you dropped it, simply accepting their vague answer. When the pounding in your head subsides, you take a seat in one of the chairs, facing the two of them.

“Sir Orange-”

“just orange is fine, (y/n). you’re off duty, aren’t you?”

You want to protest, but the lackadaisical grin Orange is giving you quells most of your worries.

“Uh, Orange.” It’s strange how different the same name can sound without the titles, but Orange seems pleased enough. “I don’t mean to cause alarm, but did you really leave your brother in a room with a fuming His Highness Black?”

Orange leans against a table, stretching out across it like a chesire cat. “nah, don’t worry about it. he wouldn’t lay a finger on blueberry.”

Red snorts, shuffling papers around on the desk in front of him into one messy pile. “not like he can’t. it’s just too much damn trouble.”  
Orange raises an eyebrow at Red and swipes the papers from off his desk, stowing them away.

You want to ask what they meant, but Red interrupts you before you can get a word out.

“so, what’s up with you and the boss lately? he seems to be puttin’ you…” He pauses for dramatic effect, and you’re tempted to walk out the room and ignore his impending joke. “…on the _edge_.”

Orange chuckles appreciatively at the predictable play on words, but the way he tilted his head slightly in your direction showed he was waiting for an answer as well.

Your fingers play with the seams of your dress.  
“Honestly? I’m not too sure what’s happening either. All I know is that Black is acting weirder than usual.” You thought back to the way he had licked his teeth in such a lewd way, goosebumps rising on your skin. You weren’t sure if you were more frightened by his old attitude or his new one.

“i back her up on that. i walked into edge telling (y/n) a pickup line, can ya believe that? wonder where he got the idea.”

You broke out into a nervous sweat, watching Red out of the corner of your eye. Why did Orange have to go and say that?

Red’s attention was captured, his eyes darting to yours and then to Orange. “a pickup line? heh, isn’t that a lil’ cliché? you only ever see those in crappy romance books.”

Damn, you liked it better when those two were fighting with each other instead of working with each other. They were both scarily perceptive… Wait a minute, were they implying what you thought they were?  
Control your breathing. Don’t make any facial expressions. Relax yourself-

“you look awfully pale, (y/n). everything okay?”

“heh, you hidin’ somethin’, doll?”

“He found the book, okay?!” You blurted aloud. “He thought it was a book on torturing people.”

Orange raised a theoretical eyebrow, seeking further information as Red broke out in howling laughter. Your face flushed and you furrowed your brows, feeling cross at Red’s demeaning sense of humor.

“no way, kid! no way! you actually read it? and the boss read it too? damn, who knew you were such a freak?”

You shrunk into your chair, feeling betrayed. You thought you’d be able to confide in Orange and Red for advice and comfort on this matter. Orange was usually so easygoing and collected, there was no way he could make fun of you.  
And Red? Well…

Red was the one who gave you the book.

After about a week he had come to learn you didn’t possess any books of your own, he had shown up with a shiny new copy of a raunchy best-selling book he swore “chicks swoon left an’ right for.”  
Even though you knew for a fact that Red didn’t know the first bit about “chicks” and what they “swoon left and right for,” you appreciated the sentiment. It was the thought that counted, afterall.

Of course you coudln't depend on  _Red_ of all people to get you a _normal_ book, but it was still a book, and you figured it’d be a shame if it just laid there collecting dust on your nightstand.

“Stop laughing!” You hissed, having half the mind to shove him out of his chair. “It’s just a book, okay? I didn’t know this would happen!”

“hoh boy.” Red wiped a tear from his eyesocket, still gripping his invisible gut. “doll, you didn’t hafta depend on a book to release your sexual frustration.”

You felt steam rolling off of your face in masses, hands twitching with the mad desire to wring a certain _someone’s_ neck.  
You had to admit, some parts of the novel had been intriguing, but you never really cared for the steamy bits. Your favorite moments lay in the development of characters and… Well, maybe a little bit of kissing here and there.

“I most certainly do _not_! I read the book for the plot!” You slammed your hands on his table to highlight your point.

Red broke into another fit of crazed laughter, his metallic tooth glinting in the afternoon sun. “ _do ya hear her, orange? She reads it for the plot!_ ”

You shyly peered at Orange, who thankfully had no idea what was going on.  
He was watching you with a knowing little smirk.

Nevermind.

You held onto your last shred of dignity, pleading with the taller skeleton. “You believe me right, Sir- Er, Orange? Right?”

Orange mocked contemplation, closing his eyesockets and raising a browbone. “hm. yep, i haven’t heard that one before, (y/n).”

If Red wasn’t screeching with laughter before, he certainly was now. He had fallen out of the chair and was curled into a little ball of maniacal hooting, which scarily sounded more like crying than laughing.

Orange managed to roll his non-existent eyes at Red and placed an elbow on the desk, leaning on it heavily. He cocked his head at you. “so, let me get this straight. edge found your porn and now he’s acting it out?”

You had to bite your tongue to prevent screeching in humiliation at Orange’s blunt terminology. Straight to the point, this one.  
With your teeth still clenched to lock your inner turmoil away in the deepest pits of your consciousness, you nod.

“huh.” Orange reclined onto the surface of the desk, giving you a small lopsided grin that made you want to crawl into a hole and die thrice. “strange. i didn’t think he had a taste for things like that.”

“he ain’t readin’ it for the porn.” Red had recovered and was clambering back up to his seat, responding to your hard glare with a wink. “boss has this thing for power. if he can make someone react in a way that suits his tastes, he’s gonna keep doin’ it ‘till he don’t see a point in it no more.”

“power?” Orange studied your face carefully, and you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “yeah. for once, i agree with red.  bet it doesn’t take a freaky sadist to enjoy your reactions.”

Red grunted at Orange, sending him a fierce look. Well, what do you expect? You wouldn’t want people calling your family “freaky sadists” either.  
Even if it was true.  
Sorry, Red.

Orange drummed his fingers on his legs, adding things up in his head. “speakin’ of which… did your book happen to involve a lot of…?”

Orange had started to say something, but decided against it. You stared blankly at him as he made some weird, convoluted gestures with his hands instead. Maybe it was just the light, but was he more orange than usual?  
“Orange, I don’t-”

Red interrupted “yeup. plenty of screamin’ an’ clawin’ involved. That book had it _all._ ”

Oh _. That’s_ what it meant. You dropped your head into your hands. Leave it to Red to be so out and obscene with such a touchy topic.

“so edge thinks screams of pleasure are screams of pain?” Orange’s grin extended a bit further than usual, leaning in towards you. You divert your eyes and lean back, ears burning. “…and he’s tryna use his new skills on you?”

Mechanically, your head moves up and down in an affirmative “yes.”

“oh boy, this is rich.” Red practically claws his way over the table to you, red in the face from his mirth. “you’re in fer a real _ride,_ doll. figuratively, of course.” The way he cackles when he pulls himself back into his chair makes you question the genuineness of his statement, but you hold your tongue.  
Honestly, this discussion could’ve gone a lot better, but you were just glad they were laughing it off instead of being disgusted and turning you away.

Red sighs in contentment, slumping into his seat after he had his fill of embarrassing you. “look, kid. as funny as this whole thing is, i get that it’s probably not all that great ‘fer you. so i’ll help ya out.”

He leans back in his chair and props his feet up onto the table, arms crossed behind his head. “ya gotta scare him. pretty simple, right?”

You nearly choked on your own spit “Scare His Highness Black!?" You shook your head in disbelief, watching Red carefully for signs of pulling your leg. "How am I supposed to do that? You can’t expect everything to be solved just by giving him a fright!”

“oh, these ain’t the kind of chills you get from a haunted house, sweetheart.”

Orange clicked his tongue, steering your line of sight away from the shorter skeleton. “what red means is, you have to do the opposite of what you’ve been doing this whole time. you know what that is?”

Biting your lip, you ponder over the question. “I guess I’ve been trying to avoid him? Which means…”

Your heart simultaneously leaped to your throat and fell to your stomach at the same time.

“ya gotta meet his challenge head-on. seduce ‘im, doll.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, is everyone okay with this fic becoming rated 'm?' I don't want to drive away all the readers I've had so far, but there may be some things in future chapters that are a little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) let me know if there are any issues!


	8. A Princess Must be a Good Communicator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOU GUYS, THIS CHAPTER HAS A LIL BIT OF SMUT IN IT!  
> If you don't want to see it, watch for the "***", they are placed at the beginning and the end of the 'M' rated section for the sake of my readers! There will be a brief description of what happened for those who didn't read that section at the end!  
> Thank you, and enjoy!
> 
> Also! I have created a tumblr just for posts regarding Maid For Royalty art and updates! Make sure to follow me at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xbunnybunz for news and chapter updates, or to submit fanart!

You can't sleep.

You shift a bit in your bed, attempting to find a position that'll allow sleep to come to you more easily, but your efforts are fruitless.  
It's late, and you know for a fact that you've tried nearly everything to knock yourself out. The issue wasn't your sleeping posture, or the mattress, or even the weirdly consistent draft in the room that bothered you for so long.

You were scared.

Well, actually, no, you weren't. It sure felt like it, though. Your hands were clammy, and your mind was constantly being bombarded with intrusive thoughts.

You groaned and sat up in the bed, your head throbbing with exhaustion.

You rub at your temple irately, trying to ease the sound of Red and Orange's words out of your head in vain.

Seriously, how did they expect you to carry through with that ridiculous plan? You vaguely wondered if Red and Orange were working together to conspire against you and get you kicked out of the house, then quickly decided that such an idea was too good to be true. You'd take being kicked out over Black terrorizing you with a smutty novel _any day._

Except you would then be without food and shelter.

Damn.

You make the noise equivalent of a cow stubbing it's hoof and drop your head into your hands in defeat.

"This is not happening. Scare Black? _Seduce_ Black? How would I even go about doing that?!" You kick at your bed frame as if that would give you answers instead of throbbing pain.

Great. Now you have a pain in the ass AND a pain in your toe. Just what you needed.

It's not that you blamed Orange and Red for laughing at your predicament, it's just that you had hoped that they'd be more helpful than giving you a nearly impossible mission and then making a joke out of your misery.

Black, who could probably snap you in half with a flick of his wrist, couldn't possibly be frightened by anything _you_ could do.

You mull over Red and Orange's words carefully. They were both smart skeletons, right? Besides, they had both shown how scarily perceptive they could be despite their contrary natures.

Was there a hidden meaning behind their message?

You try to imagine Black becoming flustered enough with your actions to completely drop his act, but no matter how hard you tried, you could only see your inevitable death flashing before your eyes.

"So much for that plan," you sigh, resting your chin atop your palm.  
You needed to consult the other two skeletons about the plan again, and make sure that their new idea didn't involve possibility of PREMATURELY TERMINATED LIFE.You could almost imagine Orange and Red snickering at you now, and you slouch grumpily into the mattress.

  
Where'd those two get off laughing at you like that anyways?

Well... At least Orange mercifully concealed his mirth behind a lazy smirk.

Although it didn't do much for your pride, it was much better than Red howling with raucous laughter, his tooth glinting in the light.

...

Wait a second...

You shot out of your reverie, spine straight with realization.

That's right! Red told you about how Black had sacrificed his Royal Guard badge, the same one he had worked years to obtain. Despite it being the sole thing that promised them safety amongst other bloodthirsty monsters, he had still melted it down into a half-golden tooth for the sake of his brother. Perhaps that tall and menacing skeleton had a soft side after all?

Maybe it'd be a better idea to just _talk_ to him. Even though it was undeniable he was frightening, he was still a living being with emotions right? Like compassion? It sure seemed like it from Red's story, anyways.

Hell, if it meant you could put an end to this madness while preserving your life, you were down to try it.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, and shudder as a cold breeze brushes past your skin, gracing it with goosebumps.  
Sighing, you pull the thin blanket on your bed over your thin nightgown and trudge over to the door, pulling it open slowly with an obnoxiously loud squeak.

You wince, and peek out into the hallway to make sure you hadn't woken anyone up.

Safe.

You watch the steps you take, careful to avoid the squeaky floorboards. You had been here long enough to memorize which ones made noise, and which were sturdy enough to remain silent.

It would be in your best interest to refrain from attracting any unwanted attention to yourself, especially this late in the night- the last thing you wanted to do was explain to Sir Sans what you were doing sneaking to Black's room in the dead of night.  
Hoh boy, that _really_ sounded a lot worse than it was meant to be.

As you passed Orange's, then Blue's room, you knew your journey to Black was halfway over.  
Although you should've been more worried about confronting a hostile skeleton twice your height, your thoughts drifted to Blue.

A question had been nagging at you from the back of your mind, but you never really had a chance to address it. That time Black had slipped on the pen didn't add up. The pen had been, clearly, in between you and Papyrus.

So how did it end up so far away that Black managed to slip on it?

Sure, it wasn't that big of a deal. Black was a strong skeleton, after all. From your judgement, he could've possibly been one of the most formidable of all the skeletons- so slipping a little bit couldn't have hurt him _too_ much.  
Still, from what information you had gathered thus far, the land Red and Black came from required they maintain high levels of alertness, so the taller brother would've surely noticed if there had been a pen there the entire time.

...The _entire_ time.

You gnawed on your lip. Did Blue really have anything to do with that? He seemed just as surprised as everyone else, but he was the first person to notice such a minute detail...

Your feet stopped in front of the last room in the corridor, the light shining in from the window at the end of the hall cast a serene yet foreboding glow  
onto Black's door.

"Am I really doing this?" You whispered to yourself, feeling the tremor in your voice.

You try to imagine Black saving Red from bleeding out, and a small albeit shaky smile appears on your lips.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

You lift your hand to knock before you can change your mind, pulling your blanket over you as if it'd help.  
The time that passes following your knocks are the most anxiety-ridden moments in your life. It took all your willpower to prevent yourself from sprinting in the opposite direction, like a game of ding-dong-ditch gone horribly, _horribly_ wrong.  
You know that it doesn't take much commotion to rouse Black, so you weren't surprised to hear Black shifting off of his bed after a few seconds.

The door opens to reveal an eerily placid Black, who's form fills the entire doorway.

Even though you had anticipated this moment for nearly an hour, you still give a pathetic squawk of surprise, surveying Black for any signs of murdery intention.  
To your surprise, he didn't seem even the slightest bit angry. Tired and annoyed? Yes, but not homicidal. _Yet_.  
You spend so long assessing his temper that you don't notice you've been staring, and Black gives you a hard look.

You try not to choke on your words  
"G-Good evening, Your Highness Black," You swallow the lump in your throat, attempting to desperately scrounge for something to say. "...You have a really nice...door?"

Shit, you really should've thought this through more!

Black stares you down until you're sweating pinballs, then makes a motion to close the door. You yelp and stick your foot in the entryway before he can send you back to your room. You've spent enough time squandering daylight because we were worried about Black's intentions, you weren't going to give up that easily, dammit!

"Can I come in?"

The skeleton grimaced, (which is saying something, because his face was stuck in a permanent scowl.) then squinted at you, as if he was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with you.

He could let you know when he found out. You didn't know either.

He pulled open the door and crossed his arms, his frown replaced by a shark-like grin.

"AH. I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO DO, HUMAN. THIS WAS IN THE BOOK AS WELL!"

His words are quieter than usual, obviously aware of those still sleeping, but still have that signature sharp trill so you ignore his statement and usher him into the room, closing the door behind you with a light _'click.'_

***

Before you can address the skeleton with your thoughts, firm hands grasp onto your shoulders and spin you around, slamming your back against the door and  
effectively pinning you.  
You gasp, and drop the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, not expecting to be forced against the hard wooden door so abruptly.

"Black!" You shout at him and wince at your volume. He was giving you an absolutely sinful, half lidded smolder, and you feel your insides clench and twist in an odd way.

"Black, quit that!"

Stars, the room was staring to spin. He leaned closer to you, forehead almost brushing your own as he parted his jaws and allowed a blood-orange tongue to manifest, more similar to a tentacle than any human tongue you've ever seen.

You watch with morbid interest as he drags his tongue slowly across his teeth, as if he was preparing to devour a meal you couldn't see.  
Other than his hands, his body wasn't touching yours yet, but he was _dangerously_ close.

His warm breath spread tingling sensations throughout your body, and your spine curves without your permission to seek his sharp-clawed touch.

As if anticipating your motives, Black angles his body further from you, _just out of your reach,_ and you wonder if his tight grasp over his urges and your instincts stem from being a Captain in a ruthless land.

Black pulls his eyelights away from yours and drops his head next to yours, and you can feel his breath on your ear, a groan itching at your throat.

How did he even breathe? Wasn't he a skeleton? Why was that the only thing you were concerned about?!

When he speaks, goosebumps rise on your flesh and you _really_ wish you held onto the blanket more tightly.  
"WHAT A SHAME YOU LOST YOUR SHAWL." He stopped to give a dark chuckle- much deeper than the usual high-pitched screeching you often heard from him. "...I  
WAS HOPING TO UNWRAP MY LITTLE GIFT."

A long phalange skims the collar of your nightgown, and his touch is like gossamer. You can it's barely tell it's there, but it still leaves a trail of fire in it's wake.  
He's at your neck now, and- oh boy, when did you tilt your head back like that?

His tongue feels cold and hot on your skin at the same time, and oh god you didn't know that magical tongues felt so bizarre- you have to fight back the choked moan that nearly slips from you.

One of the hands pushing your frame against the door trails up past your jaw and to your lips, slipping two dexterous fingers into your mouth and pressing down onto your tongue- forcefully prying your lips apart. Alarmed, your hands fly up to detach him from you, only to have Black's other hand capture them and pin them above your head.

"ARE YOU RESISTING THIS?" His voice is like silk, and stars, you never thought you would ever say that about Black- but the way he's barely even touching you but at the same time touching you everywhere is driving you crazy and fuck you can barely think anymore.  
He presses down onto your tongue again, and with a feverish hue to your face you find yourself drooling obscenely on his fingers. His teeth are sharp and when they brush against the nape of your neck followed shortly by his laving tongue, he utters a single command.

"LET ME HEAR YOU."

You obey, a high, wanton moan ripped from your lips, slightly muffled by his fingers, and you can barely believe that the sound came from you. It bounces off the walls off the room, and you're almost certain that everyone in the house heard you.  
All your senses are heightened, but there's still one thing nagging at you- why did all of this seem so familiar? Where had you seen this all before?

Suddenly, you snap out of your haze. The book! You were here for the book- remember? What was going on right now? Black was imitating a scene in the book (no, it _wasn't_ your favorite part of the book, thank you very much!) and he was still under the impression that it was a form of torture! Then, wasn't that technically non-consensual?! You didn't want to accidentally molest a skeleton?!

***

"Black!" You pull against his grip, still feeling overheated with his mouth moving towards your chest. "Black, stop!"

You're surprised when he listens to you and lets go of you, immediately detaching himself and stepping back. He's panting a bit, and his sharp cheekbones are glowing with a faint reddish hue.  
He picks up on your bewilderment and speaks between his labored breathing.

"THIS FORM OF TORTURE REQUIRES IMMEDIATE CESSATION ONCE ONE PARTY IS UNWILLING." He explains, though based on his reactions, you're not too sure torture was his only goal. Sensing your disbelief, he huffs indignantly. "IT WAS IN THE MANUAL."

Right. Your "manual."

You sigh, placing a hand on your face in near exasperation. "Look, Your Highness Black, I need to tell you something about that manual."

He gives you a look you can't quite understand, but he's listening and you're still breathing, so you didn't really care.

"That 'manual' isn't exactly a- hey, what are you doing?"

You watch as he walks back towards his bed, and you wonder if he's going to go back to sleep and just ignore you in typical "GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS" fashion.  
Again, he surprises you by sitting on the edge of his bed and allowing you to speak. He doesn't exactly appear patient, but he's waiting.

You shift your weight from one foot to another, the lull in the conversation grinding on your nerves.

Maybe this was a bad idea after all, since when does Black ever listen to anyone except for himself and occasionally his brother? If anything, this awkward conversation would only lead him to believe you were lying, and he would try twice as hard.

Did you need that? A repeat of everything that just happened- possibly in front of other house members? No! You _really_ didn't.

You were tired and you needed a cold shower. You were so out of here.

"Ugh, you know what, never mind."

You pick up your blanket and turned to walk out of the room, only to be stopped by a bone attack blocking the door. Whipping around, you clench your jaw and scowl, feeling frustrated and on-edge.

"What?"

You half expected Black to correct your informal speech, but he stays quiet, arms crossed in a way that makes him look like a disapproving parent with a killer glare.

"YOU WISHED TO SPEAK WITH ME ABOUT THE MANUAL."

You huffed, despite knowing it wasn't Black's entire fault for initiating such an intimate interaction earlier.

"I don't anymore. I want to go to bed." Real mature. You hated how you sounded like a grumpy toddler.

He eyed you for a while before sighing deeply. "THERE'S A BED HERE," He pat the space next to him on the duvet. "SPEAK."

You took a glance behind you. The bone attack didn't look like it was going anywhere anytime soon, so you gave a window beside the bed a fleeting look.  
Black followed your gaze and rolled his eyelights at you.  
"WE ARE ON THE FIFTH FLOOR, IMBECILE."

Okay, fine. You knew that.

You pursed your lips and stalked over to the edge of the bed, sitting as far away from him as possible.

...

...

...

Silence drapes over the two of you, tense and uncomfortable.

No one is happy about this.

"I AM GETTING IMPATIENT, HUMAN."

"Then just kick me out!" You sneered.

He narrows his eyes at you "DO NOT PUSH IT." You swallow your catty retort.

...

It's his turn to sigh now. "THE MANUEL WAS QUITE CLEAR IN HOW TO GO ABOUT SITUATIONS SUCH AS THESE. IT REQUIRES GREAT TACT AND PATIENCE, SOMETHING I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, OBVIOUSLY POSSESS." You can hardly believe your eyes when he pauses his monologue to pose in what you believed was an evil stance, but only looked odd without all his usual armor, which sat neatly placed beside his bed.

"WHEN SOMEONE IS UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SOMETHING, IT MUST BE DISCUSSED IN A PERSONABLE MANNER. AT LEAST, IN THIS TORTURE SCENARIO. AND YOU, HUMAN, ARE CLEARLY BOTHERED."

Yeah, hot and bothered. And downright annoyed.

"AND!" He continued, and you considered falling asleep with your eyes open, but you listen more raptly when he lowers his voice again. "I APOLOGIZE FOR  
CAUSING YOU DISCOMFORT, HUMAN."

The last statement makes your cold-shoulder defense falter, and you look at him from the corner of your eyes. He seems genuine, but stares hard into the  
floor at the same time, as if he was confused by something.

"THIS BOOK, ALTHOUGH EFFECTIVE, HAS BEEN CONFUSING." He admits. "THE METHOD OF ATTACK ONLY SUCCEEDS WHEN BOTH PARTICIPANTS ARE WILLING, BUT WHY WOULD ANYONE BE ACCEPTING OF TORTURE? IT IS CONTRADICTORY."

You prop your chin on your hands and stare blankly at him. "That's because it isn't a torture manual, Your Highness."

He looks even more perplexed now.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"

Your shoulders slump, and you turn to face him, watching his reactions carefully in case he was bullshitting you. He seemed sincere, and you were glad for that. It meant Plan A wouldn't have to take place.

"The 'manual' is a romance novel I received as a gift. Nothing about it is meant to be torture-" You stopped short, correcting yourself. "-Well, some of it is; there's a good torture and a bad torture. This book only has the former."

"WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE?" He asks a little too quickly. He looks keen, like he's trying to solve a puzzle, and you've got his full attention now.

You shrink under his gaze and mentally face palm. Did he seriously not know what he was doing? Why were _you_ the one who needed to teach him about the birds  
and the bees?!

You and Red need to have a loooong conversation once this was all over.

You try to keep your voice from wavering, but it does anyways. "W-well, the torture you're used to dealing with is bad torture- which stems from desire to see pain. The book's form of torture is more... Romantically inclined?

Black still appears confused, but seems to be piecing things together slowly. The bone attack has vanished from it's barricading position, but you no longer feel inclined to leave out of anger.  
As you watch him, you realize that although he still towers over you quite a bit while sitting, you're able to see his face a lot more clearly.

The moonlight spreads a dim light over his countenance, exaggerating every twitch and furrowed brow. Wherever Black and Red came from, they had come together, but Black clearly had more chips and claw marks along his face- probably a result of being the stronger sibling, you supposed.  
You wanted to ask about his whereabouts prior to the mansion, but sensing his nearly tangible concentration stopped you.

Still, the scar across one of his eye sockets tempted the question at the tip of your tongue.  
What kind of monster had the gall to attack Black's face? What kind of society allowed that to happen?

Your heart ached as you recalled Red's brief, yet telling, description of the underground. Monsters fought there all the time, and only the strongest of them all could rest easy at night knowing they would be safe from weaker opponents.  
How could anyone get out of that completely sane? Having to look over your shoulder every other second, or risk a knife in your back instead?  
You glanced at Black, and the way his bones poked out from under his burgundy tank-top and shorts.  
Yes, even after being awakened at midnight, Black still held his spine straight and shoulders squared- a tactic you assumed was acquired in his time in the underground.

Always having to be scarier than everyone else- more alert than everyone else in order to keep yourself and your brother safe, you couldn't imagine it.

But now, with his armor shed and the light casting down upon him, what startled you was how... Delicate... He seemed. You were sure that he could still break every individual bone in your body in less than a minute, but even with his sharp edges and steely gaze, he still looked so damn _fragile_.

Maybe that's what prompted your next question.  
It slipped out without much thought, and would perhaps be something offensive, or deemed a bad decision later on, but the damage had been done.

"Black, how was it like in the Underground?"

You half expect him to tell you to mind your own business or snap at you, but he doesn't even waver, almost as if he was thinking about it himself too, at that exact moment.

"IT WAS A NIGHTMARE." His reply is dry and cold. "SOMETIMES YOU WOULD WAKE UP FROM IT, BUT REALITY WAS WORSE. ALWAYS. WORSE."

You wonder why he was thinking of the Underground before you asked him about it.

"What do you mean?"

You inched closer to him, but he kept his gaze on the ground.

"IT WAS A CRUEL PLACE, BUT WE HAD TO BE CRUELER. THE OTHER OPTION WAS BEING DUSTED."

You knew what being dusted meant to a monster, and you swallowed thickly.

"Was it-"

"HARD?" He interrupted, "MISERABLE? DRAINING? YES. BUT THE WILL TO LIVE IS STRONG. ESPECIALLY IF YOU HAVE A REASON TO SURVIVE."

You didn't need to ask to know he was speaking about Red, and for some odd reason, he seemed to understand as well.

You feel your heart swell with sympathy when you realize why he had such a hard time understanding the difference between his typical attack strategies and the teasing in the novel. Was romance a foreign concept to him?

"Were you ever happy?" Even the Captain of the Royal Guard had to have _someone_ special to him?

Black saw right through your question, and you'd have been more surprised if the mood wasn't so somber. "NO. IT WAS A LOVELESS PLACE. IT WAS EASIER THAT WAY."

You think of the way Red admired Black, and how Black faced his worst nightmare everyday to defend the one person he held dear, even in such a cruel, cold environment.

"It couldn't have been, if you and Red came from there." You hadn't expected your voice to sound so sincere. When Black finally looks at you, your heart clenched painfully. It was as if he had never heard a genuine compliment before.

"AFFECTION WOULD HAVE GOTTEN US KILLED, IT IS A WEAKNESS."

"It's what kept you strong."

"IT'S WHAT KEPT ME KILLING."

"You had no choice."

"...SOMETIMES, I DID. I WISH I COULD SAY I DIDN'T."

It wasn't any news to you that Black was capable of dusting other monsters, and although you knew nothing of his past, you knew that even though there was  
no excuse for taking a life, love was one of the better reasons to have.

"You have that choice now."

Black remains silent, and he cradles his skull in his hands. His body is still, and his shoulders are rising and falling slowly, almost slow enough to convince you he was asleep.

"I AM SORRY."

You aren't sure what he's apologizing for, but you dare to place a tentative hand on his patella in an attempt to comfort him.

"I HAVE BEEN BRASH. YOUR SUDDEN APPEARANCE IN THIS HOUSEHOLD WAS... FOREIGN."

You're close enough that your shoulders almost brush his humerus, but he keeps his head low.

"YOU MAY FIND IT INCONCEIVABLE, BUT AS A HUMAN, YOU POSSESSED MORE POWER THAN ANY MONSTER I'VE EVER FOUGHT. YOU WERE A THREAT TO THIS TEMPORARY PEACE, AND I WANTED YOU GONE."

"I would never." You say softly, wholeheartedly.

He doesn't respond as quickly as last time, but when his bones sag against your skin, you already know what he feels when words fail him.

"I'M SORRY." He repeats, sounding exhausted, but not from lack of sleep.

Your heart sings with emotions, and you wrap an arm around his broad frame carefully. "I forgive you."

When it's clear that he no longer wants to speak, you pull away quietly, careful not to disturb him. You're halfway to the door when he coughs, and you turn to give him your attention.

He extends an oddly shaped package to you, and it takes a while to recognize it's his usual red cape draped over the top of a book.  
You eagerly hold onto the book, and feel a weight lift off of you. Finally, see, talking things out was a nice way to resolve things too! You hand him back the cape.

"Your Highness Black, the book is enough, I do not need your cape as well."

The skeleton shoves it back at you, and if you weren't so busy trying to maintain your balance, maybe you would've caught the minuscule of a smile on his teeth.

"KEEP IT. YOUR CHATTERING TEETH KEEP ME FROM SLEEPING AT NIGHT, ANYWAYS."

The cape feels heavy and expensive in your hand, but you hold onto it because of the borderline threatening look Black is giving you.  
Back to his normal-self already, huh?

Instead of cowering at his expression like you would've done yesterday, you drape the cloak over your shoulders and grin at him.  
"Maybe you are closer to love than you originally thought, Your Highness."

Black sneers and turns his nose up at you, but you can see from the way his shoulders are slumped that he isn't truly attempting to be demeaning.

"DO NOT COUNT ON IT. RED IS JUST A DARLING COLOR ON YOU."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***- Black practices some of the new skills he found on the reader, only for him to be stopped by her.
> 
> Also! I have created a tumblr just for posts regarding Maid For Royalty art and updates! Make sure to follow me at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xbunnybunz for news and chapter updates, or to submit fanart!

**Author's Note:**

> ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° did ya like it? Ifya did, slap that kudos button! If you have any ideas or questions, drop me a comment! Any inspired works or corrections? BAM! comment box!  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Hey you!! Check out this awesome fanart! I'm so happy that you love my story enough to create art for it!  
> http://orig12.deviantart.net/9e97/f/2016/229/d/d/1471349396819_by_tiny8754-dae8h63.png - CHAP 5: RED & MAID IN BED >;)  
> By Crappy Anon  
> http://orig12.deviantart.net/55ba/f/2016/229/c/a/1471341316766_by_tiny8754-dae8h3n.png - CHAP 4: OH NO! NOT THE CAP!  
> By Crappy Anon:  
> http://orig08.deviantart.net/639b/f/2016/229/6/7/1471343521678_by_tiny8754-dae8h4o.png - CHAP 4: MAID, PAPYRUS, AND BLUE! By Crappy Anon:  
> https://xbunnybunz.tumblr.com/post/162301418635/wow-heres-some-fanart-done-by-crappy-anon-for   
> By Crappy Anon  
> https://xbunnybunz.tumblr.com/post/162301582315/more-adorable-and-beautiful-fanart-for-maid-for - CHAP 6: SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET?!   
> By xXShadowTheKittyXx
> 
> If you also have something you'd like to feature here, let me know in the comments! I appreciate all of your time and work!


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